


Of Blood and Snow

by slowburn0117



Series: Of Fire and Ice [1]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Drama, F/M, Gen, Magicks, Revenge, Slow Burn, Violence, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-09 17:56:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 39
Words: 103,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5549942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slowburn0117/pseuds/slowburn0117
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Jon Snow felt the final dagger slid into his chest, he thinks of a pair of amber eyes that had given him and the rest of the Wildling civilization time to escape from the on slot of Walkers, and wonders what life could have been like.  </p><p>The Wildling waits in a grove of weirwood for Ghost to bring the nearly dead Jon Snow. The world will need him and she will make sure that he survives whatever is to come. One way or another.</p><p>Part one of the 'Of Fire and Ice' series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy, this was a work in progress since I was in EXTREME denial of Jon Snow's demise. Which is still up in the air. Suggestions/constructive criticism welcome.

Preface

Jon watched as the White Walkers closed in on their group of survivors and he had a sudden premonition that this was how the world was going to end. In winter, with blood staining the snow. Jon's attention was ripped back to the present when a fierce battle cry rang out and a Wildling landed in between their group and the on coming White Walkers. Wielding Dragon glass in one hand and a valyrian dagger, with a sword across the Wildling's back. Jon watched, motionless as the rest of the ragtag group as the wildling was a furious blur of blades and disintegration Walkers. The main on slot had yet to reach them but the wall of Walkers was coming fast, like a blue eyed tide meant to wipe out life. 

"RUN!!" The Wildling whirled and honey eyes met inky black. Jon was stunned to find that the Wildling was a woman, beyond skilled in battle and she seemed to know exactly how to fight the Walkers. She had barely a scratch in her leathers, which Jon thought were sown specifically for battle. For an instant Jon wanted to rush forward and pull her away from the on coming wall but the dark fire in her eyes snapped, forced him to remember why he had come here in the first place. After a brief nod to her, he rounded up what was left of the Wildling civilization and made for their ships. 

Jon turned back in time to see the woman disappear into the tree line, with Walkers streaming after her. Then the worst happened as Jon made eye contact with the King Walker, he raised his arms in an almost simply gesture and all the wildlings that had fallen rose with pale blue eyes. The smirk on the King Walker's face was undeniable and Jon felt a shiver of fear lance through him.


	2. Of Betrayal and Salvation

Chapter I 

The last thing Jon felt was Olly's blade sliding through his leathers, then the sick hot of his blood rushing from beneath the blade. A sensation of ice cold seeped into Jon but the pain of the betrayal was much worse. As Jon lay there bleeding, warmth spilling out of his body onto the snow covered ground, he didn't see Ghost come from out of the tunnel, nor did he see the Night's Watch back away. Fearful of the Dire Wolf. He didn't feel it as Ghost sank his teeth into Jon's shoulder and dragged him out in the to North, away from the traitorous Night's Watch. He wasn't aware of the Wilding that waited in a grove of weirwoods, many carved faces watching. The last thing he felt were tiny snow flakes landing on his cheek, like the tiny cold kisses of Lord Death. 

Jon wasn't aware as he hovered in the edges of Ghost's consciousness, that a Wildling who had not cross the Wall, tended his wounds. Bringing life back into his limbs with warm healing oil massages. Ghost laying close by, his muzzle under Jon's hand, watching carefully as the Wildling stitched Jon's wounds and nursed his body back to health. Washed him clean of the dried blood and sweat, dirt and tears. As weeks passed, Jon came back to himself, slowly becaming aware of the heaviness in his limbs, the steady solid beating of his heart, the soft wind of his breath. Stretching his hand over Ghost's muzzle, rubbing comforting circles absently on the wolf's brow. One day while the Wildling was cleaning his nearly healed wounds, Jon Snow opened his eyes. Cloduly eyes clearing, focusing on the intractely woven roots of the Gods forest. The shelter was warm, smelled of good Earth and healing herbs. The Wilding paused in the application of healing ointments and looked up. Amber eyes meet inky black once again. Jon's breathing hitched as he looked into the face of the Wildling woman who held of the advancing Walkers. A soft, half smile crept across her lips. 

"Welcome back, Jon Snow." she whispered to him, her voice snapping through him like wild fire. He opened his mouth to talk but only a horse croak came out.

"Shhh," She placed her hand softly over his mouth, her other resting on his chest, directly over the wound from Olly's dagger. Her touch was warm and skin softer than anything Jon had felt before.

"You have been nearly dead for weeks. And your voice will take sometime to return." Jon felt the softness of her skin and smelled the sharp sting of healing herbs on her fingers. He looked up into her face. She is a Child of the Forest, was his first thought but then her appearance didn't match with the legends. Though he could feel the power coursing through her, humming under her skin like lightening contained. Her ears slightly pointed, her lips full as a rose with a softer color. Her skin was smooth and pale with a sparkle, like a fresh winter snow in the early mornings. She was something else, someone powerful. It was only then that he began to realize that he covered only by an animal pelt as he laid on a bed of soft animal skins. His Crow cloak hung in the corner and was dripping from the snow melting off of it. 

"Winter has come." His voice was barely audible. A sadness touched her eyes and she looked up into the woven roots.A flash of Ghost dragging him into a grove of Heart Trees stung his mind. He realized then that they were in a cavern, the roots giving it shape and protecting them. 

"The Dead can not walk here. The Old Gods will not allow the desecration. But ... the rest of Westeros is not so safe. This Winter has yet to reach the wall but it will not be long." Jon placed his hand atop her hand that was resting over his heart. Energy snapped between them at the contact. Jon looked into her eyes, the once dark fire was gone. Replaced by a warm fire, tinged with sadness. Jon felt the sudden urge to reach out and see if her deep brown hair was truly as soft as it appeared. 

"Who are you?" Jon forced out the question, pain lancing through his vocal cords. The Wilding smiled coyly. 

"I have been called many things. But you can call me Eilonwy." She said, extracting her hand from Jon's and continuing her work with his wounds. The more Jon watched her work, the more he felt that she was not entirely human. Yet that didn't lessen his attraction to her. Her hair was the color of a doe's furs and braided down to her lower back. Whips of soft curls framing her face and wrapping around her pointed ears. Flowers and leaves were woven through her hair, like the Children of the Forest were said to do. But her hands did not end in claws, she had five fingers with nails. Her eyes, though striking, were proportional to her face. And her lips were full and pink in color. 

***  
Each day she would go out in to the raging Winter, wearing his Crow cloak and carrying a bow with a quiver full of arrows. Coming back hours later with a fresh kill and more wood. She would finish cleaning the beast, since she field dressed them were ever she had felled them. Leaving the meat on iron racks over the fire to cook. After her hunt, she would wash her hand in the spring near the back of the cavern and prepare a salve to rub into his wounds. Then came the slightly painful part for him, as she massage the wounds with the salve, then massaged his muscles, moving and stretching his extremities to combat stiffness and keep his muscle tone. Then she would go again to the back of the cavern, a place so dark he could not see and bathe herself in the flowing spring. He could hear her soft sighs and the splashing of water as she cleaned herself from the work of the day. By that time, the meat would be cooked well enough to eat. 

He had finally been able to eat something other than broth in the last few days and found eminence pleasure in the red meats. The warm blood juices in his mouth and the mug of warm drink to accompany it. Eilonwy claimed that the brew was to speed and aid in recovery, Jon knew very little of healing arts and had no choice but to trust her. 

Slowly he was regaining his movement. He would walk around the cavern with Ghost's help while Eilonwy was out on a hunt, assuming the Ghost didn't go with her. Which sometimes he did, coming back with a bloodied muzzle and as near to a grin as a wolf can get. Eilonwy had given him a fresh set of sown leathers, similar in color and texture to her own as his mobility had improved. The leathers were soft and form fitting, allowing Jon easier movement without the concern of clothing irritating his wounds. 

Jon marveled at the depth of the cavern that they were in, noting that she had to have been living here for quite sometime. The bed and fire were to the left and back in the cavern, allowing enough space from the entrance that was covered with a heavy flap of some type of fur. There was a small storage space to the right, where all of the dried herbs and root were neatly arranged, a small hand carved table held a mortar and pestle for her to grind the necessary herbs. Jars of fats and oils were also on the table, for her to use in the salves. Jon absently rubbed the scar on his chest as he looked over all the herbs she had. To the far back of the cave was a fresh running spring, that had formed a swirling pool of water that Eilonwy used for water, broth and bathing. The thought of the last made his stomach knot in such a pleasant fashion. 

Suddenly he heard Ghost's howl from outside the door. It was a happy howl, playful even. He turned in time to see the flap moving to the side as Ghost and Eilonwy entered. Ghost helping her carry in a large stag. Jon's breath caught in his throat at the sight of her. Snow dusting her braid and his Crow cloak. She pulled the mouth cover down around her neck, her nose an adorable shade of red. She laughed as Ghost all but danced over to the carcass. The moment their eyes met, something sizzled between them. Snow flakes had begun to melt, running in little trails down her face and neck. For some reason, the sight of her there like that, made him want something he was sure they could not have. Ghost's impatient yip jolted them both out of whatever spell had been growing. Eilonwy let out a soft, nervous giggle and pulled off the Crow cloak, hanging it up by the fire to allow it to dry before the next outing was needed. Jon slowly made his way over to help with skinning the beast. Ghost received scraps of meat from both of them as they cut down the stag in companionable silence. 

Once the bones were bare and the meat either salted and drying or over the fire, and Eilonwy had gathered the bones she needed for broth, Ghost dragged the remaining carcass out the door to dispose of it and likely finish off whatever meat they had missed. Jon would not be surprised if he was gone for hours. 

"Lay down, Jon. Before you fall over." Eilonwy instructed, knowing instinctively that he was loosing energy. Jon slowly lowered his body to the pellet of furs, laying back to recover what strength he had spent. He watched as Eilonwy made her way around the herbal room, collecting this leaf and that root. Throwing them all into the mortar. Then grinding it to a paste, while add a dash of fat and a slip of oil. Jon watched as she gracefully and soundlessly walked over to him. Setting the bowl down by his hips. 

For the first time in the moon or so he had spent with her, her fingers hesitated over the laces that tied up his side and kept the tunic on. Jon heard Eilonwy take in a shaky breath and his eyes found hers. Her hesitation spoke volumes to him and her silence a whispered desire. She looks at Jon and swallowed thickly. Seeing the rising heat in his eyes made her force herself focus on the task at hand. Jon needed to be healed and made ready for the war that was coming. Its beginning fast approaching. The Wall would/could not protect the south and the living beyond for much longer. This was no time for wants and desires. 

Jon watched as the heated look in Eilonwy's eyes quickly turned cold and hard. Her hand steady as she untied the laces of his tunic to exposed his chest. Her prodding and massaging was gentle but still slightly painful, her hands sending sparks of fire into his veins. Jon lay back and tried to focus on other things. The cold Winter that was headed for the South. His lost family. His lost command. Yet as Eilonwy's menstruations became softer, it got hard and hard for Jon to remain focused. When he dared look at Eilonwy again, her face a flushed with desire fever and Jon swallowed thickly, balling his hands into fist to keep them to himself. 

Eilonwy could not keep her mind focused. Not with Jon's warm, taught skin underneath her fingers. Her healing abilities and salve had him nearly mended, as evidenced by the fact that he was up and moving after a little over a moon. He had a fierce soul and the fire deep inside him that refused to go out. She found her desire for him harder and harder to ignore. She watched the unsteady rise and fall of his chest, her gaze traveling up over the scars on his torso to his defined and well muscled arms. Down to his clenched hands, the strong tendons straining as he fought to keep his hands off of her. Eilonwy's gaze traveled back up his arms to his neck, where his pulse could be easily seen thundering. Up his jaw line, her gaze settling on his lips. Which parted in a brief sigh and she felt her own breath hitch. Her eyes traveled up over the bridge of Jon's nose and finally settled on his eyes. The inky depths drew her in, the heat and desire matched her own. Eilonwy felt her heart stumbled over itself as desire and practicality wage war inside her. Before she could react, Jon seized her face firmly but gently in his hand and pulled her face close to his. Their breath mingling in a sweet dance of mist. Jon's hands tangled in her braided hair, not giving her any room to escape. The first press f his lips against hers was hesitant, a soft moan escape her at the sensation. Encouraged by her reaction, he kissed her again. This time it was insistent and firm, leaving no doubt about what he wanted. 

Jon, thrilled with her allowing this to happen, laid down, pulling her on top of him. Her knees parting over his narrow hips, settling her right atop him. A groan escaped him as she settled astride him, relaxing into his kisses. One of her hands resting over his heart, the other gripping the back of his arm. Simultaneously pulling closing and keeping distance between them. Jon moved on of his hands to her lower back, pulling her closer to him. 

Eilonwy revealed in the contrast of the scrapping of his beard and the softness of his lips against hers. Gods he knew how to unravel her long years of self-control, his body hard and eager underneath hers was almost enough to undo her. His heart beat raced under her palm and the thought that he was not yet healed was enough to stop her desire. She gently pushed against his shoulder, pulling away from the heaven of his kiss. 

"You are not healed yet." She whispered against his lips. Jon grunted, obviously not caring that he was not healed. 

"I'll be careful." He insisted. She smiled against his lips. 

"But I may not be." She gently nipped at his lower nip, eliciting a deep groan from him before she skillfully slipped out of his arms. This time the groan that came from him was one of frustration as he watched her tend the fire and turn the meat. 

"Once you are well, Jon, I must teach you how to fight." She said, her back turned to him. Jon rolled his eyes. 

"I know how to fight." He retorted. 

"Not White Walkers, Jon." She said, glancing over her shoulder at him, an odd bluish gleam to her eyes. Jon blinked and the gleam was gone. Ghost came trotting through the door about then, grinning like a wolf with a bloodied muzzle. He sat down next to Eilonwy, his big tail thumping against the dirt ground as she scratched behind his large ears. 

"Traitor," Jon whispered as he struggled to regain control of himself. Not even Ygritte made him feel what Eilonwy did.And the fact that she could so easily deny him was discouraging.


	3. Of Strength

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this one is shorter, more of a set up for somethings to come. Enjoy dear readers. The next chapters may take sometime as I re-read somethings so that the mythology matches with the original stories.

Chapter II

Jon had been fully healed for a few weeks, as his time with Eilonwy approached the second moon. Yet she had been keeping her distance. Keeping everything practical, taking him out hunting, training him. Making sure he was thoroughly exhausted before she went to bathe. But as he stamina was increasing, it was getting harder and harder for her to avoid him. His body building more muscle then he had before, thanks in part to all the meat they eat and training they did. But mostly he will to learn stemmed from his desire to save his people. And she offered him that chance. Yet her presence was distracting, the grace and speed at which she fought made her that much more attractive. To his eyes, hers was a beautiful dance of Death, a strange gracefulness to her.

Jon had always seen Catelyn Stark, a proper lady and though Ned had loved her dearly, she was not the warrior that Jon desired. There was a part of him that had always felt wrong about his desires, Ned and Robert and other Lords all married Ladies. Proper and pure. But Jon had never had that desire, perhaps since he was a bastard. He wanted someone to fight along side him. Be willing to do the dirty work that needed to be done and not worry about getting dirt on their pretty dresses. To relish the reward of a hard days work, coming home with dirty hands and a big smile. Jon grunted as Eilonwy elbowed him in the stomach and then flipped him over, pinning him to the ground with a piece of dragonglass to his throat. 

"Distracted, Jon?" She inquired. He looked up into her fierce gaze and smiled slyly. Using a technique that she taught him, flipped her over and settled between her legs, pinning her full bodily to the cool ground of the training area in the cavern.

"Are you?" He asked, pushing closer. Making sure she felt every inch of his toned and taught body. The fire in her eyes sparked and -=quickly became heated with desire and she swallow loudly. The dragonglass dropped from her loosen grip, landing with a solid thud in the dirt beside them. She grip the back of his arm with one hand and with the other traced his hair line, down the side of his face, to his jaw line. Savoring the feeling of his bread scraping through her fingernails. When he moved his hips in a slow, steady circle, she couldn't bite back the moan that escaped her lips. And his answer chuckle made her body vibrate. 

"Jon," she whispered breathless. It sound like a mix between a question and a plea. Jon leaned down, placing a hot kiss to her jaw line, just underneath her ear, gently nipping the pulsing flesh there. Her back arched, smashing their bodies even closer together. Jon groaned deep in his throat at the sensation of her being to intimately close to him. And he wanted more. He left a trail of kisses down her exposed neck, eliciting moans from her when ever he gently nip her with his teeth. Eilonwy's mind spun as she lost control of her body's reaction to him. And that was dangerous. Ghost's piercing howl rippled through the air and they both froze. 

"That is a warning." Jon states as they both scrambled for their weapons and gear, running outside to see what had caused him alarm. As they neared the edge of the weirwood grove Eilonwy felt a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold travel up her spine. Ghost stood within the boundary of the grove but was stand straight up, hackles standing on end. Eilonwy grabbed Jon's arm and pulled him to a stop. He looked at her questioningly, she looked up into the trees and looked back at him. He nodded and they climbed into one of the trees at the edge of the grove. the red leave shielding them from sight. It took a moment for Jon to separate out the images from the surrounding white. He saw two figures, running for their lives. Jon felt his heartbeat pick up as he saw the Walkers, slowly stalking toward the two running figures. He made a move to get down but Eilonwy was below him and she was not moving. She had a pained look on her face as she stared out into the white of Winter. 

"Eilonwy!" He urged but she shook her head. 

"We are too late Jon. We wouldn't make it." She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. He looked back as a scream ripped through the air. 

"We can still help!" He shouted, jumping down and landing in the snow but before he could take another step, Ghost was in front of him. Blocking his path. Another scream ripped through the air. Jon's body was shaking with tension. Eilonwy landed beside him without making a sound and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. He spun on her, fury in his eyes. But his fury was melted by the look of agony etched on her face. A tear had frozen on her cheek. And he did the only thing he could do. 

Eilonwy pulled Jon into her arms and they held tightly to each other as the sounds of death gave way to a ringing silence. She could feel Jon's desire to save his people from the horror but he was in for a hard lesson. A lesson he had not learned at the massacre of Hardhome. The few may need to be sacrificed for the survival of the many. Jon held her so tightly that it was almost hard for her to breathe but she could tell that he needed it. Needed to hold her, needed her to be his anchor while he weathered the storm of his emotions. Eilonwy knew that he felt more of the world's suffering than most. And it was near impossible for him to turn away. Ghost bumped into Jon's back in an attempt to comfort. Jon stood up straighter and walked back to the cavern. Eilonwy and Ghost stood together, watching him disappear. 

"It is time for Jon to begin hearing the truth." Eilonwy whispered to Ghost, who snorted in response. Eilonwy looked after Jon, an ache deep in her heart. 

"I just hope he will forgive me." Her only answer was a soft wind whispering through the leaves of her grove.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S. if anyone wants a visual on how Jon Snow looks in my mind after all this training, google Kit Harrington Pompeii ... Oh yes, that is our Jon all beefed up.


	4. Of Westeros and the Old Gods

Chapter III  
Eilonwy watched Jon through the flames of their fire. He was pulling pieces of meat off their kill and tossing it to Ghost. She sighed, seeing very clearly the heavy weight that he carried. A burden that both made him the great man he was and held him back from his destiny. 

"Do you know the story of how Westeros came to be?" She asked softly, her voice barely indistinguishable from the crackle of the fire. Jon glanced up at her. 

"Sure, the First Men came across the land bridge which was soon destroyed by war. They found the Children of the Forest and after many years of struggle, they came to an agreement. Living in peace until the Others came. After they beat back the rising Winter, the Wall and Night's Watch were formed. Then Andals invaded from Essos ..." Jon stopped as Eilonwy giggled. 

"What?" he asked. She shook her head. 

"I know the history of Westeros, Jon. Do you know the legend of how Westeros came to be?" Jon looked very confused. 

"It is said ..." Eilonwy began, her voice painting the story.

***  
The Old Gods wandered the world, revealing in the enormity of it. But the All Mother wanted a land of her own, where her Children would run free and not have to worry about Man and their inevitable violence. That was when she found it. An island across the Arm of Dorne, a winter waste land where nothing grew. And the other Gods told her so. But the All Mother would not be dissuaded, she saw the potential under the ice and snow. Of an Earth that waited to be fertilized and yearning to grow. So She crossed the great arm, reaching deep into the Earth and bringing warmth with her. She banished the Winter in to the lands far to the North. To the lands of Always Winter, where the Earth had frozen over and could never again be woken. 

As the land of Westeros grew lush and green, the All Mother again became dissatisfied. She wanted someone to appreciate the beauty of her land. So came the Children of the Forest, born from the All Mother and Earth. Where the Children had been born, the weirwood tree grew. Through those trees, the All Mother could watch over her Children. The Children being learned in the magickal arts, knew the All Mother and the Old Gods watched over them, so they gave the weirwoods faces, so that the Gods might have a link to the world. There was a time of great peace and plenty for the Children. They lived with and took care of the land and animals given to them by the Old Gods. And the All Mother was happy beyond words. 

Yet it was not to last. The All Mother's Brother, whose name is long forgotten, was jealous of his Sister's ability to create and take away life. For he had no dominion and none to worship him. So in the secret of the night, he found Man. Whispered dark things to them. Spoke of a plush land of great value across the seas, across the arm. A land of Children. So the Dawn Age began and the First Men invaded Westeros. The All Mother was devastated as Man and Children slaughtered each other, as her weirwoods where cut down or burned, as her lands were stained with blood. And the darker side of the All Mother began to emerge. For you see nature is both beautiful and deadly, forgiving and punishment. The Old Gods became afraid and so told the All Mother that it was her Brother that had whispered to Man and brought them to Westeros. 

In a fit of rage, the All Mother cursed her Brother. Casting him out and into the far North, where he would never again see the Light or feel the Warmth of the the sun. Never again to smell spring flowers or feel a soft summer breeze. He would become the Night's King, only to ever exist in Winter and ice and cold. As her Brother was whisked away by her curse, the All Mother regretted the words that left her mouth. But as a God, once the words are spoken, they can not be taking back. Without her Brother to whisper dark things to Man, the Pact was made and peace again came to Westeros. 

***  
"And so the Night's King dwells ever in the cold and dark, plotting his vengeance upon his Sister. Ever he waits for the Winter to come again, so that he may face his Sister and wipe Westeros clean of her creations, leaving only his. Made from the dead, because that is all the can be in Winter." Eilonwy finished telling the legend and Jon's eyes had very gone wide. 

"I never heard that one." He said once the story had time to sink in. "Why would the All Mother curse her own Brother? And if the All Mother's Brother knew she regretted it, why make the Walkers and seek vengeance?" Jon asked. A sad smiled played at Eilonwy's lips. 

"Because Jon, all Gods are capable of great cruelty or great compassion, never forget that. And because that is how the Night's King is. Filled with envy and hate for all things that are not his. Not even the Gods are above emotions Jon. They feel just like we do. They envy, rage and even love. Yet their words carry more power than ours. That is why the Gods do not speak directly to us, at least not often. Instead they give signs and comfort. Reassuring us that they are here. That they are not blind to our suffering." Eilonwy explained. 

"Why do we suffer then?" He asked, the pain of loosing his family and his friends flashed through his eyes. 

"So that we may learn. The Gods gave us one very important gift. Choice, Jon. The choices are always our own. Our destiny is up to us. We have the choice to accept it or rebel against it." Eilonwy sounded much wiser than Jon would have guess her age. She looked barely a day over 25 yearly cycles yet there was an ancient feeling about her. In her eyes danced the stories of ages. But no one lived that long. Not even the Children. Perhaps it was because she lived North of the Wall and her life was much harder than it needed to be. 

As Eilonwy stood up and moved about the cave, like she felt cooped up, Jon watched her. His eyes taking in every detail. Her finely crafted leather, worn and stained but still soft and taken care of. The boots on her feet, her shaped legs, built by years of hunting and fighting. Her mostly flat stomach, one that Jon knew had never born children, but noted that she was well fed. Her glorious breasts that heaved when she was excited or when the chase was on during a hunt. Her powerful arms that allowed her to hold a bow at the ready for long periods of time. Her delicate appearing hands that could heal or kill, depending on the situation. Her elegant neck that bore a few scars, from what he didn't know. Her small, pointed ears that could hear things he had not yet learned to pick up on. Her full lips and soft voice that drove him mad. Her piercing amber eyes that were keen and saw truths that many didn't want to see. Her long brown hair that was always braided yet never got in her way. This, Jon decided, is what the Gods should look like. 

As night fell, Eilonwy grew even more restless, like she was worried the sun would not rise again. She paced the cavern from one end to the other, Jon quietly watching as he stroked Ghost's large ears. He could sense her discomfort and restlessness but knew that there was nothing to be done. The nights had grown too cold with the on coming Winter, not many living things could move around out there. Winter, in its truest form had come to this land. Jon couldn't help but imagine the Night's King, whom he had seen at Hardhome. His body emaciated and gaunt, flesh wrinkled and yet taught over his skeleton, and the crown of not ice atop his head. If that is what the Brother looked like after the All Mother cursed him, Jon wondered what she looked like. Would she look like her Children, small and four fingered? Or tall and regal? Jon allowed his mind to wander along the path of possibilities as his eyes tracked Eilonwy's near frantic passing. 

"You are going to wear a trench in the floor, you keep doing that." Jon whispered to her, knowing she would hear him. She stop so swiftly and was suddenly so still that for a brief moment Jon wondered if she was even human. She smiled softly at him after a moment. 

"It is just ... the telling of the Old Tale made me restless. This war Jon ... we must win." Her eyes had locked on to his with such an intensity that Jon could feel the power emanating from her. 

"I know." And a weight settled between them. Eilonwy came and settled beside Jon's lounging body. He had stretched out, legs crossed and propped up on one elbow, his other hand stroking the soft fur of Ghost's ear. Eilonwy placed a hand over his heart, feeling the strong steady beat beneath her palm. She smiled to herself and closed her eyes. That was when the vision came. 

***  
Jon's face was bloodied and battle worn. But he stood tall and proud with Long Claw gripped in his hands. The Night's King standing opposite him, a blade of not ice pointing at him, light glinting off the blade in an unnatural way. The battle raging around them drew little attention as the two stared at each other. Eilonwy felt her heart seize as the King lunged and Jon parried, deflecting the blow. Valiyrian steel and not ice screeching. Slowly they circled each other, testing and retesting offenses and defenses. Thanks to her training, they seemed to be equally matched. 

"Why do you still fight, Man? Why protect her?" The King hissed. 

"Winter stops here. You will go no further, take no more lives." Jon responded, driving a hard blow at the King's head. It was then that Eilonwy notice the castle of Winterfell in back ground. The snow stained red with the blood of Man and black with the dust of dead Walkers. 

So Winterfell is where it will be decided. She thought, the sound of not ice and Valyrian steel drew her attention back to the battle. 

"You can not keep me from her, Jon Snow." The King hissed. 

"I can or will die trying." Jon retorted. Eilonwy's heart simultaneously burst and stop at the words. His love shinning brightly on his face. 

"She deceived you, Snow." The King whispered, his voice sounding more like cracking ice. "You can never truly have her. No one can. She is All and ends All. None can have her, yet all will eventually know her embrace." Eilonwy's heart dropped. No!! Her mind cried and Jon's face and steps faltered. It was just the opening the King had been waiting for. She cried out as the King drove his blade of not ice through Jon's heart. His eye went wide in shock as he looked down at the hilt of the blade now resting against his breast bone. He coughed and blood poured from his mouth. An anguished cry ripped through Eilonwy's throat as Jon feel, his death blind eyes looking up at the increasing Winter squall. 

***  
Eilonwy's cry would haunt Jon for the rest of his life. Her eyes had gone sightless, her body rigid as visions passed behind her eyes. Suddenly she had cried out, as if all she loved and held dear had died in her arms. She had locked eyes with him and whispered a phrase he would never forget. 

"He is coming for me and this is all my fault." Then she had passed out cold in his arms. Jon watched the steady rise and fall of her chest, Ghost laying pressed against her other side. She suddenly looked very fragile to him and Jon didn't like that something had cause her so much worry and pain. Jon had heard of people who carried the burden of Vision but he had never seen it happen before. And he would be the first to admit, it was unnerving. Jon dripped the soft cloth in the peppermint water and rung it out. He gently wiped the cloth along her neck and collar bone, hoping it would have the soothing affect it had on him when he was young. Eilonwy's breathing was steady, as if she was sleeping and her heart beat was strong, assuring Jon that she was okay. So he waited for her to rouse, anxious to know what had cause her such distress.


	5. Of an Older Era

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an in between chapter, short but bigger things are coming. I wanted to give Jon and Eilonwy a small break before the storm truly begins.

Chapter IV  
Eilonwy came awake to the strong smell of peppermint and the tingling sensation on her neck and chest. For moment she didn't move, the darkness was too sweet and she knew what would be if she opened her eyes. Yet something kept nagging at the back of her mind, so reluctantly her eyes lids peeled back and she was looking at the intricately woven branches of her weirwood cavern. Not so strange but the two warm bodies pressed against her was out of the ordinary. Slowly she lifted her head to look about. She found that she was laying on her side, wrapped in Jon's arms with Ghost pressed against her back. There was a fresh kill cooking over the fire and Jon's crow cloak was just beginning to dry. She wondered how long she had been out, judging by all she saw and the fact that Jon's hair was not yet dry from whatever storm was raging outside, the better part of a day. Not so unusual for a Vision to knock her out like that. At least she had been in the safety of her cavern this time, Gods knew she had woken buried in snow before. 

But what she was truly marveling at was how Jon was holding her. Her head was resting on his bicep, the rest of that arm curled around her shoulders. His other arm was resting on her side and his hand was on Ghost's ribs. Their legs tangled together. Eilonwy shifted a little bit, testing the tangled nature of their bodies. Jon made a sound of contentment and pulled her closer to him. 

"Eilonwy..." he murmured her name is such a fashion, it made her heart burst. But then her vision came flooding back and it was like having ice water poured down her back. Eilonwy felt tears sting her eyes as the sight of his dead face in her mind's eye. She let out a shuttering breath and Ghost seemed to stir behind her, causing Jon to wake up. He stirred quietly, as if confused for a moment and looked down at her. 

"Hello, Jon." She said, ducking her head to hide her tears but before she could wipe them away, his fingers under her chin forced her to look up at him. Jon frowned at the sadness swimming in Eilonwy's eyes. He used his thumb to wipe away the fallen tears. 

"Eilonwy? What troubles you so?" he asked and the compassion in his voice nearly undid her. 

"My vision ... Jon I watched you die." she blurted out, unable to keep the truth from him. A deeper frown furrowed his brow as he processed the words. There was a part of him that always knew he would perish in battle, it was the way of the Night's Watch. Only violent deaths awaited the brothers, Jon supposed that he had forgotten that these past few moons with Eilonwy. She had given him something dangerous, hope. Hope that maybe his life could be more than blood stained snow. 

"It is a path I knew my life would take, ever since riding with my Uncle to the Wall." Jon said carefully, watching the fire spark in Eilonwy's eyes. 

"And you just accept that?!" She all but roared, shoving away from him to sit up and hug her knees to her chest. Jon allowed the silence to stretch out, sensing it was best to say nothing.

"Not all life must end in violence, Jon." She finally whispered. 

"But it is the life of a Brother." He countered. 

"You are no longer a Brother of the Night's Watch, Jon" She snapped, still looking into the flames of the ever burning fire. 

"I swore an oath, to the Old Gods, Eilonwy." He stated simply. 

"And that debut was paid when they murdered you." She glanced over her shoulder at him, the fire gleaming in her eyes. Jon couldn't argue, the sensation of Olly's dagger sliding into his chest. Ice cold and Jon realized it should have been lethal, yet here he was alive. Nearly healthier than he had ever been in his life. 

"There was a time, Jon, not long ago when the Night's Watch was considered a sacred calling to the families of the North. Selfless devotion to the protection of all South of the Wall. It was not intended to be an exile for the vile people of the Kingdoms. Even the vow changed. Men of the Watch could be husbands and fathers, but never would they possess crown or land. It was their pleasure to watch over the Wall, their wives and children residing in the Gift lands. I am not sure when it changed but it was not a change for the better. Why ask men to fight and die in the protection of somethings they can never have? The Wall is a cold and unforgiving place. What better way to renew the will to fight, then to have a warm house full of laughter to rewarm your soul?" Eilonwy seemed to be talking more to herself than to Jon but still he was fascinated by the notion that the Watch was not always as it was now. 

When Jon had first ridden to the Wall, he had been barely a man and had illusions of what the other men would be like. Since his Uncle Benjen Stark was a man of honor, Jon had assumed that they would all be that way. He had learned a hard lesson those first moons, made many enemies. Jon wondered what it would have been like to have been a part of that world, that time. Would he have taken a wife and had children of his own running about? It was thoughts that Jon never had before, the idea of a child of his blood. Not a bastard but a pure born. And Jon wished, if only for a moment that they had both existed in the era. Then he could have called her wife, and she could have been a mother to his children. 

"How I wish, Jon ..." She sounded to wistful, almost sad that it was not the case. "But this is the era of Winter." Jon nodded and it didn't even occur to him that she had read his thoughts.


	6. Of the Journey South

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go dear readers. The journey toward battle begins. Sorry it took so long. Personal life has been crazy. Enjoy!

Chapter V

Another full moon had past before Eilonwy decided it was time to go South, the pieces were aligning and it was time to be in place. She had done her best to keep Jon at a distance, which he seemed to allow. They continued training but there was a cool air between them. Ever since she had mentioned his murder at the hands of his brothers. Eilonwy thought that he was trying to keep her at a distance as well. Yet it didn't ease the growing ache in her chest. She had known the risk when she saved him and as many Wildings at Hardhome, she had known the risk when she waited in the grove for Ghost to arrive with Jon. She had known .... but she had not been prepared. She looked down at her twice packed bag, not really seeing anything. Was she ready to make the hard choice when the time came?

Jon's fustrations had grown harder and harder to ignore. Eilonwy had made it very clear, with her actions that she wanted to be left alone. But her suddenly icy demeanor only confused him more when he thought back and realized that it all started after her vision of his death. He easily accepted it but that didn't mean he wouldn't do what was needed to protect the Kingdoms. He knew they were to travel South, in search of the Wildling camps in the Gift lands. That was were he had told them to go, reminding them that raiding would draw the attention of the Night's Watch and the Crows were not a forgiving group. Jon looked at his bag and then into the fire, simply waiting for Eilonwy to it was time. She clearly had a plan in mind that she was not ready to share. So he trusted her, as he had for several moons. All the while wanting only to be closer to her yet accepting the distance. 

Eilonwy stood and slung her pack over her shoulders, over the two bladders of water at her side. Her dragon glass dagger and the other of Valerian steel rested at her hips, her sword Winter's Bane settled across her back under her travel pack. The opal grip glistening in the fire light, the silver hilt reflecting the amber flames. Its dark blade sheathed in a rich dark leather. Her hair was tightly braided, without the flowers and leaves this time. Her face was hardened, the face she wore when she stood between him and the Walkers. Jon sighed, slinging his own pack over his shoulders. Ghost made a grunting sound from the door way. Eilonwy looked sadly around her cavern.

"For so many years this has been my home, my shelter. Ever has this fire burned but now ... Now it will be extinguished and darkness will rein." She murmured, grabbing a handful of dirt. Jon followed her lead, the cavern dirt was soft in his hand. 

"Perhaps, when Winter has been beaten back, we can return and relight the flames." Jon said, moving to stand as close to her as he dared. She sighed deeply, knowing that she would never see this place again, if all came to pass as she hoped. 

"Perhaps, Jon. Perhaps" she lied to him and it hurt her heart to do so but she wasn't sure the truth would be any better. They each threw their handful of dirt into the fire, the flames spurting and hissing before going out. Plunging them into murky darkness. Only the muted light from outside and the glow from the caverns pools allowed them to see. Jon reached out for Eilonwy's hand, their gloved fingers intertwined and she squeezed his hand with extraordinary strength.

"We will win, Eilonwy." Jon stated, so sure. Eilonwy looked up at him.

"I know, Jon. Because we must, for the sake of these lands and the lives they hold." She echoed. "We must." With that statement she released his hand and headed for the door. She had told him it was a three day journey to the wall where they would cross at Queensgate. Apparently there is another hidden door that leads to a passage through the Wall. But according to Eilonwy, only a woman can find it. Since women do not serve the Night's Watch, it is not written about in the histories of the Watch. 

"We will have to bed down at night fall, the winds become too strong and the chill too much for travel." She had explained, rolling up a small waterproof skin. "The tent will be tight but it can fit the three of us." She had spoken so matter of factly that if Jon had not seen the snap of desires fire in her eyes, he would have thought she cared not that they would be sleeping so close. Her distance was ever perplexing. But Jon focused his mind as they trudged through the near waist deep snow, out of the safety of the Grove and into Winter. Ghost walked behind them, guarding their backs as they made their way toward the Wall. 

Jon couldn't accept how different the world looked in the full cloak of winter. Everything looked dead and frozen. As if nothing lived nor ever would again. As what Jon assumed was night fell, since they couldn't see the sun only the darkening of the already muted light was all he could judge by. Eilonwy found a small over hang for them to set up. The tent was indeed tiny. Just enough for the three of them to lay squished together in. After eating some of the smoked meat, they laid down to sleep. Jon lay pressed intimately close to Eilonwy and Ghost lay at their feet between them and the small door that was tied shut. Eilonwy turned her back to him, tunneling deep into the skins they had to share. She had taken off her overwear and hung it up by the small fire they had started. His crown cloak and pants hung next to her white furs. So they lay front to back in thin leathers and cloth. The heat radiating off gher body called to him. 

Jon lay on his back, listening to Eilonwy's breathing deepen as sleep took her. As he was about to drift off, Eilonwy shifted toward him in her sleep nestling her head on his shoulder. Her hand sought out his as she murmured his name. Jon's heart raced as all the pieces fell into place.  Her feelings for him had not changed, she still desired him but was pushing him away because of her vision. He pulled her closer, resting his chin on the top of her head, breathing in her scent. He could content himself with this contact, if she could deny him while awake, he would seek her comfort while she slept. To sleep with her in his arms, until his death. Jon could think of worse ways to live out one's last days. 

***  
So for three days and nights that was their routine. Eilonwy would wake, disentangle herself from his sleepy arms and pull out breakfast. They would eat in silence, dress and breakdown camp, and begin the slow march to the Queensgate. At night they would set up camp, start a fire, hang their clothes and eat. Once their belly's were full, they would tunnel into the furs and Eilonwy would seek the comfort of his arms before falling asleep. On the forth day, the Wall loomed ahead of them. The deep snow had slowed their trek more than anticipated. Yet she stood very still on the edge of the Forest, watching something in the distance, her eyes narrowed dangerously. Jon stood beside her, squinting his eyes to see what she was. When Jon saw the hulking form, his heart jumped. He put his hand on Eilonwy's shoulder as she reached for her bow. He shook his head once and left the shelter of the forest, Ghost at his side. Eilonwy watched as a second Direwolf came into view and she knew. This was a man of House Stark. Slowly she approached as Jon clasped the semi-giant on the arm. 

"Hodor!" He exclaimed but the intelligence in the person's eyes didn't belong to the body. 

"Not quite, Jon " Eilonwy approached and took the gentle giant's face in her hands, bringing him down to meet her gaze. She smiled knowingly. "Hello Brandon Stark." She whispered. The giant stood straight, his face leaving her hands quickly. Suddenly an arrow landed at her feet. A young woman stood above them on the ridge line. 

"Meera," Eilonwy acknowledged her presense. Meera's face pinched as she jumped down, slinging her bow across her back. 

"I'm sorry, Lady. You look so different." Meera took Eilonwy's braid in her hand and gently yanked. The giant's hand rested carefully of Meera's shoulder. Eilonwy's eyes sparkled with tears as Meera looked up at her. 

"I am sorry, Meera. Jojen knew his fate and was willing to help." Meera shrugged it off, quickly whipping away her tears. 

"Bran is where he needs to be, we have the arrows and were looking for the passage." Meera explained, her nature much colder than when her brother was alive. Eilonwy nodded. 

"Bran?" Jon's voice was thin. All eyes, Summer's included were on him. Hodor walked over and took Jon in a giant's hug. The words whispered between the possessed Hodor and Jon where their own. Eilonwy's eyes turned to the Wall, her took off the glove and placed her hand on the cold ice, she walked along the Wall, closing her eyes and extending her senses. In a few moments the soft clinck of an opening lock greeted her ears. She pushed the door open, a gust of stale wind blowing past her, ruffling her hair. She felt Ghost and Summer come up to either side of her,she rested her hands on their hands, scratching behind their ears. She looked over her shoulder to find Hodor, Jon and Meera looking at her. She raised an eyebrow. 

"What?" She asked.  

"You look like a Goddess with Ghost and Summer standing next to you like that." Jon stated simply moving toward her. She felt the weight of Hodor/Bran's stare but the giant said nothing. She nodded briefly to the giant and brushed off Jon and Meera as she stepped into the tunnel. The days journey to Queensgate was dark and only the sound of their footsteps and breath could be heard in the deep places. Eilonwy had sealed the door behind them, lest the Walkers find it and use it. They didn't need to aid the Walkers in anyway. Queensgate was long abandoned but in better repair due to better craftsmanship. Eilonwy slung off her pack, calming her breathing. Night had fallen and the chill was setting in. 

"We can rest here for a day, maybe two but we must move on. Toward the Gifted Lands. The freefolk are waiting there." She said, handing out smoked meat to all. Hodor had returned to his gentle half minded self. He greatfully chewed on the meat, absent mindedly petting Summer. Eilonwy knew Bran still watched but he needed to conserve his strength.  The Starks held the keys to winning this war, Jon more so since his blood was mixed. Another lie Jon had been told his whole life. He was half Stark, just not for Eddard's loins. Guilt sliced at Eilonwy, she too had lied to him or at the very least not told him the whole truth. She stood watch as everyone else drifted into sleep. Eilonwy admitted to herself that she missed the warmth and comfort of Jon's arms. Suddenly Summer nudged her, very human intelligence looked up at her. She smiled, scratching the wolf behind the ears. 

"Hello Bran." She said, opening a connection between them. 

"I've seen you in my dreams." Came Bran's voice in her head, she nodded. 

"I'm sure you have." She responded evasively. The wolf cocked it's head to the side. 

"Jon?" Bran asked. Eilonwy flinched and shook her head. The wolf growled softly. "He should know." 

"He will, when the time is right." The wolf looked doubtful but trotted back and laid with Hodor. Eilonwy looked out of the land dusted with snow. Winter had not arrived here yet, in its full fury but it was coming and with it the Night's King. She could feel him out there, somewhere in the vast cold of the North. Eilonwy shivered and pulled her furs tighter around her shoulders in a vain attempt to fight off the chill she felt deep in her bones. Winter is coming and bringing ugly Death for all life with it.


	7. Of the Free Folk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know readers. It is taking a long time to set up. But in my defense, there are a lot of pieces that need to be put into place. So stick with me. It will be worth it in the end.

Chapter VI

For two more days the happy party traveled together, Jon simply content to be in the company of someone from his life before the Night's Watch. Though Hodor was not a good conversational companion, Eilonwy sensed a shared past between the two men, and words are not always needed. Ghost and Summer seemed to be content with each other's company as well. Dire wolves were not common among the lands any more. Many thought they were completely extinct. Eilonwy knew it was not the case, but the odd fact that a female with a liter of cubs had ventured so far south was unusual. But it was not something she decided to trouble herself about. Meera seemed lost in her own anguish, more than willing to join her brother in his demise. Eilonwy knew nothing to ease the girl's suffering, so she left her to her grief. 

Occasionally Summer would look back at Eilonwy with a very human expression but she would studiously ignore the look. She knew Bran would keep her secret for fear of hurting Jon, who even if he had been a bastard to Catelyn Stark, had only ever been a brother to Bran and his siblings. 

When they came to the folk in the road, all knew it was time to split up. Hodor, Meera, and Summer would head to Winterfell and if possible make the castle ready for the company. 

"Be cautious," Eilonwy ordered. "There is not telling if the castle is abandon. If it is not, do not look for welcome there. You will find none." Eilonwy knew what had happened there, the horrible things the Boltons had done and allowed to happen. There was a part of her that had hoped the Northern rebellions were successful in their campaign to rid the North of all Southern influence and traitors. The campaign was lead by none other than the Black Fish, who has escaped the massacre of his beloved family and had traveled the countryside weaving the tale of what happened to their King. He would not rest until those responsible had paid. But whether or not he has been or would be successful was still undetermined. 

The goodbyes were brief, the pain of losing his family still weighted heavily on Jon's heart. Eilonwy knew that if all she hoped for came to pass, illegitimate heir or not, he would become King of the North and Warden of Winterfell. Word of his survival was spreading fast throughout the North, despite her efforts to keep it quiet. And she knew that when this war was over, Jon would search out the remaining members of his house and bring them all back together, restoring the seat of Stark power in Winterfell. As the groups parted ways, Eilonwy did not miss the stern look Summer gave her, with his very human eyes. She felt the weight of the stare and heard Bran's voice inside her head. 

"He deserves to know." it was no more than a whisper, like a soft wind moving through the trees. Eilonwy flushed under the scrutiny, a part of her not knowing if she was strong enough to tell Jon what he needed to know. 

"Come, Eilonwy." Jon's hand was a warm and heavy weight on her shoulder. She swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat and turned to walk with Jon and Ghost toward the Gifted lands, where the wildling people waited to be called in to battle. Or so they hoped.

*******  
It took a whole days journey for them to reach the encampment. And what they found was not encouraging. The wildlings were still so clearly divided. Jon heard Eilonwy let out a heavy sigh, sure that they were sharing the same feelings. How could they stand as a united front against Winters worst, if they couldn't live together in peace. They looked at each other and made their way to the little village, in search of a semi-friendly face. But the deeper into the camps they went, the less friendly the faces got. When they finally reached the Haunted Forest encampment, Tormund was no where to be seen. Jon, sensing their distrust of him moved away. Eilonwy removed her heavy fur coat, and went in search of the caretaker of the village. She found a strong looking older spearwife who regarded her with less hostility than they had been giving Jon. Eilonwy handed her coat to the woman, who took her hand and brought her ear close. Jon stayed very still as the older woman whispered into Eilonwy's ear. 

When the old spearwife released her tight hold, Eilonwy smiled softly, bowing her head in thanks and motioned with her eyes which way Tormund had gone with his hunting party. As they moved through the rest of the encampment, Eilonwy murmured to Jon that they would have to instruct the free folk on how to farm the lands. He nodded in agreement, though his mind was else were. 

*******  
Jon and Eilonwy moved silent among the thick brush of the land, not sure when or where they may encounter Tormund and his party. They had trekked maybe a mile or so into the woods when Eilonwy felt the small hairs of her body stand up. Before she could react, Jon pulled her against a tree and used his body to shield her. There was a soft chuckle for the trees around them. 

"Lord Snow," came Tormund's mocking voice followed by the soft thud of his landing. Jon still kept his body between Eilonwy and Tormund as he extended his hand in greeting. Tormund seemed to consider the hand before taking it. 

"We had heard that you were murdered by your own kind." Tomrund got right to the point. 

"If not for Eilonwy, that certainly would have been the way of it." Jon stepped aside to show Tormund who was behind him. The recognition was instant, Tormund had been the the front of the line with Jon when she had interfered with the on-slot of White Walkers. 

"I'll be ..." Tormund left the sentence hanging. Eilonwy smiled a soft but knowing smile. 

"We've come because it is time, Tormund." She said, Tormund's eyes traveling to Jon. Who said nothing but looked grim. 

"We have to talk with the encampment. Some are still not convinced that this was the right move." He said, whistling for the rest of his hunting party to join them on the ground. Eilonwy could feel Jon's anger snap behind her. Not the right choice? Fight or die, those were the only two choices left. 

The group made a slow steady trek back to the village, a fresh kill hanging on a branch, carried between two of Tormund's men. Ghost had slunk in to the very tips of the Wolfswood, not trusting the wildings. Eilonwy knew, just as well as Jon did that Ghost would be invisible but ever watchful. The camp gathered around the main fire for the food to be prepared. It was then that Tormund spoke out to the mass of people. 

"It is time, free folk. The Crow and spearwife have come because the Long Night is upon us. It is time for those of us who can, to stand and fight." There was a general sound of approval but many made no sound at all. Eilonwy felt her blood growing hot. 

"Have you all forgotten what happened at Hardhome?!" She near shouted, the flames dancing behind her, throwing her into a hostile light. That light danced in her eyes as she stared hard at each person in front of her. 

"I stemmed the slaughter of your people. I stood between all of you and sure Death. He got you safely across the Wall, like Mance had wanted, and nearly paid with his life for it! And still you doubt what will happen when Winter crosses the Wall?!" She jabbed her finger at her chest, at Jon, and then at each of the naysayers. 

"You have two choices now, with the Longest Night approaching. Fight and maybe die for the chance that your young can grow up. Or wait here to be slaughtered like cattle by the Walkers. If you want to wait here, we have no use for you. Stay here and die." Jon watched Eilonwy in her passionate speech. She stood so still except for the heaving of her chest as she glared down the wildlings. Some bowed their heads is shame, while others looked boldly at her. Though not in her eyes, which blazed with fury and power. She scared them, Jon saw that clearly. 

"So," Tormund took over. "We stand and fight." One by one, each wildling that was able to fight stood, facing the three of them. Jon felt a thrill run through his blood. A hope light a fire inside of his soul. They may have a chance after all.


	8. Of the Joining Forces

Chapter VII

With the battle to come looming the air, the wildings seemed more companionable as they packed up their camps to head in to Winterfell, Stark territory. Jon felt his guts in a knot at the thought of returning to Winterfell. It didn't feel like his home anymore, not without Ned or any of this siblings. He especially missed young Arya, he often wondered what kind of woman she had become. He had heard that before his murder, Ned had gotten her a swords instructor. The fire over his father's death still burned in his belly, the injustice of his family's slaughter was still something Jon couldn't fathom. Eilonwy seemed lost to him in her own musing but every now and then he would catch her looking at him with the softest expression on her face, yet when ever he dared to go near her ... She shut down, like that warmth in her eyes had never been there. Jon spent most of his time in the Wolfswood with Ghost, watching the wilding population break down there camp. A process that was taking a lot longer than he had expected. He never really appreciated how lightly he and Eilonwy traveled. Nothing more than the packs on their backs and the small, intimate tent they shared. 

How Jon missed those intimate times with her. She had with drawn so far that he was sure he had lost her. Her visions had put a wall between them, a wall that slipped while she slept. And if it wasn't for the soft sigh she uttered every night when she snuggled into his arms while she was fast asleep, he would have given up on her. But there was a hope, a sliver in the back of his mind that when this was over, if they both survived that maybe she would stand beside him. He had heard the whispers about his assuming the throne of the North, it was not something he had every planned to do. But returning to the Night's Watch was no longer an option, so if he should survive, what then? Could he lead the people of the North to independence? The South was so concerned with all they petty squabbles that he doubted they were even aware of the threat that was facing all of Westeros. Kings and crowns and lands meant nothing to Jon. Which is why, Eilonwy argued, he would make the best of Kings. 

Eilonwy could barely keep herself away from Jon. The more she saw of his strength, the more she was drawn to him. The fire he carried in his soul was a light she wanted to bathe her own tired soul in. She was so weary after all these years of being and doing as she must. All she wanted was to spend the days left in bed with Jon, caressing ever inch of his body. Stoking that fire until it warmed both of them. Yet Bran's words haunted her. Jon did deserve to know. He deserved to know many of the things she had hidden from him. He trusted her blindly and though she had never lied to him, she had not told him the whole truth. But how to begin? She couldn't, not without throwing everything into doubt and Jon needed to be focused. 

By the third day, both Jon and Eilonwy had grown restless. Hodor and the others surely reach Winterfell by now but without the ability to send word neither Jon nor Eilonwy knew the outcome. It was also on that third day that a sqaud of Crows arrived in the edges of camp. Tensions shot high as Jon and Eilonwy emerged from the crowd of wildings to face down the 2 dozen or so Crows. 

"I'll be damned," murmured the one at the head of the column. A wide smile broke across Jon's face at the sight of the aged man. 

"Ser Davos." Jon rushed forward as Davos dismounted and accepted the embrace. "How?" Jon began but was inturpted by the approach of Melisandre's horse. She looked very weary, like she had lost all of her sparkle after Stannis and his army were slaughtered. 

"She knew where to come. She said that the battle was beginning and we had some where to be. And Thorne bragged around Castle Black about how he had killed you but that didn't sit well with the rest of the Brothers, so they followed us. Many of them still think of you as their Lord Commander." Eilonwy didnt hear much of the conversation, as her eyes were focused on Melisandre, whom she recognized but she couldn't quite place how. The women's eyes locked and the fire erupted near by, wildlings yelping in shock and narrowly missing getting burned. Melisandre bowed her head slightly, unnoticed by anyone else and broke the eye contact. EIlonwy's eyes narrowed, something was off about that woman but Melisandre's attention was once more drawn away. A knowing smile curving her lips, Eilonwy had to resist the urge to slap it right off Melisandre's face. Priests. Eilonwy never did want anything to do with people like that. They had this bad habit of being fanatical. That didn't change the fact that Melisandre had been touched by a god.Just not the god she thought but Eilonwy would leave that between Melisandre and her god.

"Great! Welcome to the fight." Jon said, clasped Davos on the arm. The wildlings and Crows looked uneasily at each other but with Tormund and Jon standing next to each other acting like companions, it eased tensions a bit. Though all were jumpy around Melisandre, her presence was unnerving to those who were not use to power. She carried a similar type of power, though hers was much older than the power Melisandre carried. The wildings gave her a wide berth at that nights fire and dinner. 

"We expect to be off in the next day or so. The Brothers can rest after your trek down from Castle Black." Jon was saying to Davos, who had informed them that only the ones who had actually stabbed Jon had remained at the castle. Eilonwy could tell, that even after the betrayal, Jon still felt for young Olly. Who had been dragged in to a war that should never had happened. As the fire began to die down, Jon asked Eilonwy to tell the story of the creation of the First Night's Watch. All eyes turned to her and she sighed. Knowing she could not deny Jon Snow anything if he asked directly for it. 

"Many eras ago, the First Men and the Children of the Forest came to an uneasy truce as their own Longest Night began. Walkers existed even back then, and had fewer numbers then than they do now, for the Night's King had newly discovered his ability to claim the dead. He was still so new in his exile and still so bitter...." Once again Eilonwy's words painted a picture as Jon fed the fire and brought it back to roaring life. 

***

The Night's King happened upon a dead horse one day and having grown tired of walking he touched the horse, making a simple wish. That wish gave the horse an undead life. The animal stirred, though never breathed air for sustance again. Their muscled moved the way they did while they lived but it wasn't out of a need for life. The King had long ago discovered that is he took possession of an infant male, he could alter the child enough to make a Walker. But now he had learn to make wights. Stealing the bodies of the dead to make an army of slaves driven only by the command of their makers. And so when his numbers were enough, they swept down from the Land of Always Winter, and with no wall to stop them, decimated the Northern lands of Westeros. Leaving in their wake only charred remains of villages, its inhabitants swept up into the army of the dead. Recognizing that extinction was soon to find them all, the Children and First Men put aside their difference to battle a common foe. The battles were bloody, the air choked with heavy smoke from the burning dead. Slowly the tide of Winter's Death was pushed back, all the wights burned and a few Walkers slain. The King retreated to the far north lands of always winter and plotted for his next chance to swept across the lands of the living. 

One man, Bran the Builder, he would be called, proposed that they build a giant wall that would keep the Northern most lands behind and give some warning should the Walkers return. So with stone and ice and magicks, the Children and Men erected the Wall. Building 20 castles along its Southern boarder, each family pledging one son per generation to the noble cause of protecting the land of the living. A few First Men, not wanting any part of the society that the other's wanted to build retreated into the North, to live as they always had, dividing in to the known tribes of the Free Folk. While the Children disappeared back in to the Forests, to be left alone as well and leave the Menkind alone. The remaining Men soon became to great houses of the North. Eleven great houses arose in the Northern part of Westeros, above the neck. And each house grew in number and strength as the hard years of winter marched on. And every generation, one male from each line, when they came of age made the choice to serve at the Wall. Standing with honor and steadfast against what may come again with Winter. They were a proud and noble brotherhood that called themselves the Night's Watch. It was their sacred duty to protect what would become the seven kingdoms. It was their honor to patrol beyond the Wall and speak with the Free Folk, keeping an ever watchful eye for the return of the Walkers. 

Ever they stood, lived, and died on the Wall, protecting those beyond. Returning to their warm hearths with a pack of brats running merrily around their houses on the Gifted Lands, from House Stark. For who could be expected to fight and die to protect something they couldn't name. To love was to live and to live was to defend the Wall. For centuries the Brothers of the Watch stood proud and unchanged by the passage of time, while to the South, wars raged and politics and religion made men go mad. Still the Northern families held true to their promise, one child from every generation was given up to the service of the Wall and joined the honorable ranks of the Night's Watch Brotherhood, swearing their oaths before the weirwoods beyond the Wall, were the Old Gods could still hear their words. 

***

Eilonwy let the tale sink in, all eyes watching her as she weaved her story. She stopped right before the wars and politics of the South changed things. That after the North beat them to a stand still at the Neck, the Watch became a dumping ground for all sorts of unsavory people who would have been better off in jail or dead. Yet even through the ages, each of the 11 houses still sent one male from every generation to the Wall to service the Watch. Yet as she looked around at the faces of the men from the Wall, she could see the same dreamy look on their faces that she had seen on Jon's. A longing for an older era when service at the Wall was an honor, not a life sentence. 

"If everything works out, my brothers and sisters, that is how it will be again." Jon stood then, drawing all eyes to him. "We forgot what dangers lie in wait in the Land of Always Winter. The cunning King waiting for his chance to wipe us out. The Seven Kingdoms are weak with political squabbles and pointless wars over a crown and chair that have little meaning when all are dead. The time has come again for us to set aisde our differences, the misguided years of killing each other because we forgot our true duty. It is time again for us to unite as the Men of the North, protectors of the living!" He held his sword Longclaw over his head, calling out his battle cry. Eilonwy's eyes filled with tears as everyone stood and cried out into the night. So caught up in the passion of Jon's words, she stood, threw back her head and let loose a howl. Ghost could be heard answering them in the distance and yet even further away, more unearthly howling arose from the Wolfswood. Dire wolves, Eilonwy realized, dozens of them. Jon looked at her, wide eyed realizing the same thing that she had. The Dire wolves had returned to the North. It seemed that change was in the winds. 


	9. Of Mixed Lines and Truths

Chapter VIII

That night when Jon came to their tent, his intentions were set in his mind. Visions be damned, he wanted Eilonwy. As he slid up next to her body covered in soft cotton, his fingers traced up her ankle, to her calf and thigh, over her hip and under her shirt to touch her soft skin. He smiled as goosebumps erupted across her skin and a soft sigh came from her lips. Eilonwy turned toward Jon, a fire in his eyes. His hand drawing tantalizing circles on her stomach.

"Jon," she began but he shock his head.

"No Eilonwy. I can't stand this distance between us any longer. I don't care what you saw, I don't believe in destiny. I make my own path." He shifted them so his hips settled in between her thighs that parted so willingly for him. She let out a soft moan as his weight settled on top of her. 

"Jon, wait. I ..." She paused, the words stuck in her throat. But the look in her eyes gave him pause. He frowned down at her.

"What is it?" Jon asked, propping up on his forearms and looking down at her. Eilonwy ran her hands through Jon's hair, feeling the soft strands against her fingers. Tears formed in her eyes, sure he would leave for the secrets she had kept. 

"Jon, I have to show you something. Something I have known since we first met." Eilonwy flipped them over and settled on to Jon's hips. She leaned down and took his face in her hands, placing a gentle kiss on his lips before opening up her mind to his. 

***

Jon gasped at the feeling of falling, tumbling into the past. The images coming so fast that he could barely register them. Two young dark haired children play fighting in the Winterfell weirwood courtyard. A tournament, with both children much older. Jon realized with a start that he was seeing his families past, he recognized Ned and Benjen Stark, so the oldest must be Brandon and the woman Lyanna. He saw flashes of her jumping in to defend Howland Reed as a young lad, her painting a weirwood with a laughing face on a shield. Lyanna braiding her wild hair and tucking it into the helmet of armor she had put on. Lyanna beating three knights and demanding they teach their squires honor. Rhaegar placing blue and white roses on Lyanna's lap, crowning her the Queen of Beauty and Love. The spark between them was undeniable, Jon could clearly see it.

"Robert is an honorable man, Lyanna." He heard Ned's voice. The scene settling in on he and   
Lyanna.

"In battle maybe, Ned. But he will never be true to our bed! I know he already has a parcel of bastard littered throughout the seven kingdoms. I can not marry a man like that!" Lyanna's voice carried outside of her tent for Rhaegar to over hear. He waited in the shadows for Ned Stark to leave before entering the tent. Lyanna's face was flushed with anger as she spun on him, her features softening when her eyes took in his face. 

"What can I do for you at this late hour, Highness?" She asked, bowing her head in acknowledgment of his rank. His pale hair was aglow in the fire light, his strange lilac eyes burning with passion. 

"Lyanna," he breathed her name like a prayer. Her smoldering eyes locked on his, she shook her head.

"I am promised, you are wed. We can not!" She said as he came at her, wrapping her in his arms. 

"I do not care. My wife has no love nor warmth for me. And I over heard what you said." Lyanna blushed furiously. "It could be a secret." He whispered against her lips. She pushed away. 

"We would be living lies, Rhaegar. I want ...." She stopped herself, covering her mouth, her eyes wide and shocked. Rhaegar looked at her, confusion on his face. 

"What do you want, Lyanna? If it is within my powers, I will give it to you! I swear it!" He fell on his knees in front of her, his eyes pleading. Lyanna's own eyes glistened with tears. 

" I want to be free to love you in the open, Rhaegar. I don't want to have to hide." She finished, fleeing the tent and leaving Rhaegar dumbfounded. Jon's vision jumped again to Lyanna riding fiercely through the Stark lands, she shouldn't have said those things out loud, much less to Rhaegar, she berated herself. If she hadn't have said them out loud, she could still have denied her feeling for the Prince but now ... Now her heart was not content with her betrothal to Robert Baratheon. Now her heart longed for someone she could never have. No sooner had she conjured his face in her mind, did he step out from behind a tree. With a shock Lyanna pulled back on her reins too rough and her horse rebelled, throwing her off it's back. She let out a startled cry as she went careening toward the ground. Rhaegar, being fast and agile, snatched her out of the air, holding her close to his chest. 

"Put me down!" She snapped in a huff, her pride hurt more than anything else. Her horse had stopped a few yards away and was happily grazing. Rhaegar let out a soft chuckled and placed her feet on the ground. "What are you doing here?" She asked, straightening out her skirts. 

"How could I stay away after what you said?" He said matter of factly. Lyanna blushed a deep scarlet and turned her back on the crowned prince. 

"I should not have said those things. Forget that I did." She crossed her arms, trying the harden herself to say what needed to be said. 

"Oh?" Rhaegar said, placing his hands on her shoulders and running them up and down her arms. Lyanna felt herself melting under his touch and he wasn't even touching her intimately! Furious at her own weakness she moved away from him again. His presence was intoxicating, even in the open air of her family's land. She turned toward Rhaegar to put to rest this infatuation once and for all, she was due to marry Robert in six moons and Rhaegar had a new child on the way. One that was due very soon. Yet the fire in his strange eyes, lit a fire in her body. He backed her against a tree, pushing his body against hers. Lyanna felt her resolve giving way to Rhaegar. It was what she desperately wanted, to love him. 

"Was it not true, Lyanna?" He asked, his fingers tracing the shape of her lips and gently touching her cheek. She opened her mouth but the lie could not come forth. She closed her mouth was a snap and just looked into his eyes. In her eyes he saw the truth, she wanted his love just as he wanted hers. With her permission clear, he leaned down and kissed her fully. Lyanna's head spun as Rhaegar kissed her, her hand tangled in his long braided silver hair. They pulled apart breathless.

"If you let me, I will wait here for you." He said against her lips. As much as she wanted that, it could not be. She shook her head. 

"You have responsibilities in Dragonstone, the princess will need you for the birth of your next child." Lyanna could stop the rush of jealously she felt toward Eila. Rhaegar looked disappointed. "I will ride every day, in hopes to find you again but you can not just disappear. Neither can I, Rhaegar. I .... I am to marry Robert in six moons time." A furious light came into Rhaegar's eyes and for the briefest moments, Lyanna feared for Robert's life. 

"I will find a way for us to be together before that happens, Lyanna. I swear it." He kissed her thoroughly one more time before disappearing into the forest. Lyanna's heart raced at the idea and she knew that if he asked, she would run with him. Consequences be damned. Little did she know, a few months later, that opportunity would arise. She was on one of her daily rides when she came across Ser Arthur Dayne, Rhaegar's best friend. She pulled her horse to a stop, canting her head curiously to the side. 

"Ser Dayne! To what do I owe this odd honor?" She dismounted gracefully, placing a chaste kiss on either of Dayne's cheeks. 

"Prince Rhaegar sent me, my Lady." Lyanna looked up, clearly startled. "He sends word that he has found a safe place for the two of you to be together. But you must come now, else it may not be secret much longer." Lyanna's heart beat wildly in her chest, did she dare? She glanced over she should at the distant walls of Winterfell. Feeling the weight of her impending wedding crash around her. She steeled herself and nodded to Ser Dayne, who took a hold of her hand and lead her through the forest to a waiting carriage. When the door swung open to reveal Rhaegar, hooded holding out his hand for her, she didn't even hesitate. She leaped into the carriage and away they stole into the setting sun. Leaving her horse to be discovered by her brothers when they came looking for her. If they had known the tidal wave of blood that their love would unleashed, many hope that they would have made a different choice. But when a love like that seizes your heart, sometimes you are helpless against its pull. 

The following flashes were the rebellion history everyone knew, following the disappearance of Lyanna and the murders of Rickard and Brandon Stark, Robert launched his rebellion and so began the massacres of all Targaryens. But what most didn't know was what happened to Lyanna. 

Ned Stark burst through the tower doors, following Lyanna's pain screams. He feared what he would find, with her screams the way they were, he fear finding her in the midst of being raped. Yet as the door crashed under his boot, that was not what he found. Lyanna's swollen belly heaved under the weight of the contractions and she screamed out again as another seized her before the first had ebbed. Ned rushed to his sister's side, taking her hand. The room was full of winter roses and she lay in a pool of her own blood. The midwives work furiously to save at least one life. 

"Oh, Lyanna!" Ned breathed. She looked up at him and through the veil of pain he learned the truth. Tears streaked down her face. 

"I love him, Ned." Was all she could whisper. Ned didn't have the heart to tell her that Robert had slayen Rhaegar in battle not two weeks ago. Lyanna's hand clentched his as another wave of contractions hit her, her pained screams would haunt his dreams for the rest of his life.

"My lady, the baby is not faced the right way, we must try to turn it if we are to save it!" Said the midwife who's hands were on her stomach. Lyanna bit down on a piece of leather and nodded. Another wife came to Ned's side and together the each gripped a part of her stomach and forced the baby to turn. Lyanna screamed around the leather but Ned could see the small shape turn and instantly she sagged in relief. 

"Ned?" Lyanna turned toward her brother, her eyes filled with tears. Ned leaned down to place a kiss on her sweating forehead. "Ned, look after my child." She pleaded, Ned revolted at the idea that she was going to die.

"You will be able to raise the child yourself." Ned assured, Lyanna screamed out again as a contraction took her.

"That is the head, my Lady!" Called out the midwife in between her knees. Lyanna gritted her teeth and pushed with all she had left. "That was the shoulders, one more big push my Lady!" The midwife cheered her on, the other two ready and waiting to preform their duties. Lyanna shook her head, Ned gripped her hand and turned her head toward his. 

"Come on Ly! One last push and the child is out!" Ned encourage her, she nodded and gritted her teeth pushed, screaming out as they pulled they child out the rest of the way. The other two midwives quickly accepted the baby and cleared out it's nose and mouth. The child let out a loud wail and Lyanna breathed a sigh of relief. 

"A boy, my lady! Healthy, with a full hair of black hair!" They handed the bundle to Lyanna, but she was too weak to hold the child, so Ned accepted the tiny babe. Lyanna's breathing was becoming shallow. 

"I know, Ned." She whispered, tear running freely down her face. "Rhaegar is dead... I felt him die. I know Robert's vendetta. Promise me, Ned, promise you will protect him. Robert can never know he is of Targaryen blood. Robert will slaughter him in his crib. Promise me, Ned." Her eyes burned with the fire that Ned had seen in her all the days of her life. Ned looked from the squalling babe to his sister. 

"I promise, Lyanna. I swear I will raise him as one of my own." Ned made the promise, knowing his sister need the peace. "What should I call him?" Ned could see his sister fading fast, the fire slowly going out of her eyes. 

"Jon," she whispered, her hand rest a top the small bundle. A wet nurse step forward to feed and quiet the child. "Promise me, Ned." She whispered one more time before exhaling her last breath, her eyes open but sightless, her last tears sliding down her face on to the soaked pillow. 

"I promise." Ned whispered to the corpse that was his sister. So pale and covered in blood. That was how Howland Reed found him, gripping his sister's dead face and weeping. Reed quickly took in the scene before him, the wet nurse feeding a tiny bundle, Lyanna's swollen belly, the three midwives attempting to clean up. 

"Ned?" Rees asked, approaching the !man cautiously. "Robert's messenger has arrived. He is on the way." That seemed to snap Ned out of his shock. 

"He cant know, Howland. Robert must never know who Jon's family really is. From now on, he is my bastard." Reed nodded in agreement. "Get her cleaned up and prepared. We will wisk her away to Winterfell and bury her before Robert can see that she was with child when she died. You will come with us, to keep him fed and comforted." The wet nurse only nodded, cooing to the now content babe in her arms. And so it was, Jon Snow became Eddard Stark's only bastard, to be protected from Robert's fury.

***  
Jon pulled out of the vision, tears in his eyes. A lie. He had endured the torment of Catelyn Stark for his whole life to be protected from being slain by the King, for his parentage. He looked into Eilonwy's eyes and saw the same look in hers eyes that his mother held for his father. He reached his hand up and entangled them in her hair. He pulled her face down to his and brushed his lips against hers. 

"Aren't you angry with me? I know who your parents really were but never told you." She had expected him to be so upset with her. Jon smiled and shook his head. 

"You have given me a gift. My parents love each other. I am not the bastard I thought I was. Rhaegar and my mother had secretly married and he hid her in Dorne. How could I be upset by that?" He asked, rolling them back over so that he was nestled in between her legs. 

"Because I have handed you more tragedy. Not only have you lost the Starks but now you know about the Targaryen relations you lost long ago." She said, still clinging to the hope that she had angered him, so he would draw away. Because she wasn't strong enough to keep him away anymore. 

"But I have an aunt that still lives, maybe  a brother. My younger cousins still live, though they are scattered across the seven kingdoms. And I am not a bastard. A burden I have lived with for so long that I feel light in the knowledge that I am a legitimate heir." The unbridled joy in his eyes melted what was left of Eilonwy's resistance to him.

"How did you know about the possible living Targaryen's?" Eilonwy asked. 

"Even in my exile I hear things. Daenerys lives a in Essos and I have heard that Aegon may yet live, spirited away by a friend of my father's. Arya is missing, as are Sansa and Rickon, and Bran is in the far North, untouchable by what I understand. Yes I have lost, many have and many still will before this war is over. But I have gained a lot as well." His thumbs brush along her cheeks, wiping away tears. 

"And if you are willing, I hope to gain one more person." He whispered, kissing her softly. 

"Oh Jon," she cried. "I haven't the strength or will to keep you away any longer." Jon rolled them back over, his hips firmly against her core. 

"Thank the gods." He whispered as he began to undress her. He longed for her naked skin against his, feeling deep satisfaction as their skin came into contact. Eilonwy let out a deep throaty moan as Jon's fingers traced down her breast, her nipple puckering under his touch. But his hand did not pause, instead it traveled down further to find her heated core. Jon let out a deep groan of his own as he found her wet and ready for him. Eilonwy surrendered herself to the love burning in her heart, tired of fighting against what they both wanted. After all when a love that strong seizes your heart, sometimes you are helpless against the pull of it.


	10. Of Gathering Forces

Chapter IX

Eilonwy woke the next morning feeling deliciously sore after their feverish love making, followed by the slow and tender love that shattered her heart. Leaving her vulnerable before Jon and him bare before her. Never had she felt more content than she did now. Waking with Jon's arms tightly around her, their naked legs tangled. As she stretched, Jon stirred beside her. A slow, sensual, lopsided smile on his face. He propped himself up on his elbow, his other hand tracing a lazy circle around her breast, making her nipple harden.

"I do enjoy how your body reacts to me." He mused, watching the goosebumps rising on her skin at the lightest of his caresses. Eilonwy laughed softly, she enjoyed how his body reacted to her as well.

"As much as I want to, we can not stay here all day." Eilonwy said, tracing the shape of his lips with her finger. He playfully nipped the pad of her finger and sighed. Resting his head against her steadily beating heart.

"I know. The journey to Winterfell must begin today. We still have a war to fight." He conceded.

"And thousands of lives to save." Eilonwy added, Jon groaned. But he started to get up and get dressed, handing her clothes to her. Jon laid down on top of her once more before they left the tent.

"But every night, you are mine." He said, kissing her so thoroughly that she would never doubt again. Nor draw away because he would pursue. He now knew it was in his blood, to never give up when he found what he wanted. Eilonwy let out a throaty moan as he push against her core and quickly withdrew, because if he didn't they wouldn't leave the tent until past high sun. Jon emerged to find the camp stirring two, the bright rays of sunrises piercing through the coming winter storm. Eilonwy stepped out of the tent, braiding her hair and looking to see what still needed to be done. Which wasn't much. The camp could be packed onto the horses the Brothers had brought with them, which would make for quicker travel. Eilonwy's warm fingers intertwined with Jon's, giving him an encouraging squeeze. He looked at her with a tenderness that made her heart flutter. He smiled his half smile, causing her insides to contract and they headed off toward the camp for breakfast and packing the horses.

There was still a lot of tension in the air between the Brothers and the Free Folk but they work companionably as Jon gave them instructions to load the horses with Folks stuff. Though some of the Brothers grumbled about having to walk to Winterfell, a three day journey, they did as their Lord Commander ordered.

"He carries quite a blaze inside, does he not?" Melisandre asked from beside Eilonwy, as she pulled the straps tight, securing the rolled tent to the horse. Eilonwy looked at Melisandre. The woman was bundled thickly in a red fur cloak, her deep blue eyes shining in the morning sun.

"He does." She answered softly.

"Walk with me?" The plea in Melisandre's voice made Eilonwy stop and look more deeply at the woman. She nodded and followed Melisandre as they walked by the dying fire. "I.... " she began but couldn't find the words. Eilonwy reached out and took one of the woman's hands. Melisandre looked at her and for a brief moment saw the flash of power in Eilonwy she had been sensing.

"It is no new thing to struggle with faith, Melisandre." Eilonwy began, softly holding Melisandre's hand. "Many before you have struggled with their God's demands and tests. You are having a crisis of faith because the one you were so sure of, is dead. Having proved he was not worthy."

"Yes," Melisandre sank down to one of the sitting stones, appearing defeated. Eilonwy kneeled down and took Melisandre's other hand in her warm one. Melisandre looked near pleading for answers. She had never doubted before but after Stannis and then Jon, she wasn't as sure of her God or herself.

"To bare the burden of a God's good will and commands is heavy, Melisandre. And even the gods do not speak plainly. All visions are riddles that most be solved before acting. Your Prince that Was Promised is such a riddle."

"Your Jon is of the Targaryen line." Melisandre said, albeit weakly. Eilonwy nodded.

"That he is but his birth was blood and tears. There are still others from that line who maybe your Prince but they are not here. You still have a part to play in the battles to come, Melisandre. Crisis of faith or not, your god has given you powers that will be needed to bring about peace in Westeros." Eilonwy stood, releasing Melisandre's hands, which fell neatly into her lap. "But first we must beat back this coming threat. Winter is not the problem. The Night's King is." Eilonwy turned to walk away.

"I have seen you," Melisandre's voice makes her stop, a chill running through her blood. "I know you keep a dark secret, even from Jon." Eilonwy turned slowly, her expression carefully neutral.

"Oh?" Was all Eilonwy said.

"You too have a heavy burden and a part to play in this battle with the dead. But I wonder if you are strong enough to do what needs to be done." Melisandre smiled sadly, as if she too saw the possibility of Jon's second death.

"I will do what must be done to save Westeros." Eilonwy entoned, feeling the conviction of the words sing through her being. Melisandre nodded, placing her hands on Eilonwy's shoulders. Melisandre placed soft kisses on other of her cheeks and went back to the horses. Eilonwy felt the burn of those kisses on her skin, she looked around to find that the camp was packed up. Jon came over to her and nodded.

"It is time." He said, looming toward Winterfell. Eilonwy followed his gaze.

"So it is."

***  
The journey was uneventful, now their motley crew was in the Wolfswood, awaiting orders. They set up a small camp but lit no fires. No need to signal where they were. Jon, Eilonwy, Davos, and Tormund had gathered at the edge of the wood to see the walls of Winterfell. A banner flew above its keep that was not the one Jon had hoped to see. The Flayed Man banner hung above Winterfell, its banner making Jon's blood boil.

"Bolton," he growled between gritted teeth.

"He has Rickon and Osha." Came a soft voice above them. Eilonwy looked up to find Meera perched in the branches above them. Jon's blood ran cold, he had heard what Ramsey had don't to Theon, what he had done to Sansa before they had escaped. They knew he had killed his father and allowed his dogs to rip apart his stepmother and her new born son. Now that sick son or a whore had Jon's little cousin.

"So what now?" Davos asked. Meera looked down with a cunning smile.

"Word has already begun to spread of Jon's return from the Wall. The North is up in arms over what has been done too its people. They are calling you Lord Stark, Jon. Waiting for you to claim the throne of the North." Jon ground his teeth.

"When did you send out the word, Meera?" Eilonwy asked. The girl's smiled grew wider.

"Two days agao." Meera answered simply.

"Two days? That means they should be here..."

"Right about now." An unfamiliar voice interrupted Davos. Everyone spun to face a short, lean figure cloaked with a bow slung across his back. He reached up and pulled back the hood. The bearded face with glittering dark eyes greeted them.

"Father!" Meera exclaimed rushing into her father's arms.

"Lord Reed! Friend of my mother!" Jon extended a hand, Reed for a moment looked surprised but soon his face crinkled into a smile.

"I suppose there is no need to protect you from Robert any longer, young Targaryen. Though you resemble your Stark lineage more than a little." Reed gave Jon a hardy hand shake.

"Your men?" Jon asked. Reed nodded over his shoulder.

"Few yards back. Wanted to see what we were up against." Reed motioned to Winterfell.

"We?" Tormund inquired. Eilonwy broke into a wide smile before the figure stepped out.

"Aye. We." Jon knew that voice.

"Ser Tully." Jon had to resist the urge to shrink back. Since Catelyn was his niece, Brynden Tully hadn't been overly fond of Jon. "I am glad you have come."

"So, you are a Targaryen?" The gruff man asked. Jon stood a little straighter as he proudly proclaimed his lineage.

"My father was Rhaegar Targaryen. He lawfully, though in secret wed my mother, Lyanna Stark. Ned swore to claim me as his bastard to save me from Robert Baratheon's wrath." Jon explained. Tully got closer to him, eyeing him fiercely.

"Aye, I thought you favored Lyanna more than Ned. In all the years I knew him, Ned had never given me cause to doubt his fidelity to Catelyn." Tully stepped back, spitting on the ground. "So, King of the North, what do we do now?" A smile that was much too cold and too cruel for Jon spread across his face as he turned towards Winterfell.

"I have a plan."


	11. Of Retaking Winterfell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay dear readers, this is shorter chapter. Mostly because there are only so many ways to describe battles. I hope you all enjoy my little vengeance on the Boltons.

Chapter X

The passages under Winterfell were unknown to anyone who was not raised there. Jon had lead each group to their individual tunnels. Instructions were simple, after night fell, kill every Bolton man. Hodor, Meera, and Summer were to find Rickon and Osha, get Rickon to safety and give Osha a weapon. Ramsey had only had them for a few days but gods know what that had entailed. Jon, Eilonwy, Davos, and Tormund were to search out Ramsey and his personal guard, search and destroy Jon called it. Eilonwy followed behind Jon, her bow in her hands, an arrow knocked. They moved swiftly and silently toward the court yard.

"Remember," Jon whispered. "Kill as many as you can before they raise the alarm. We head for the throne room." They all gave a brief nod before emerging quietly from the door. Eilonwy gazed across the courtyard to see that all the others were in placed, she stepped out and shot down the first sentry who came into view. And the blood bath began. It wasn't long before a shout of alarm was raised. Eilonwy dropped her bow and drew her sword and dagger, hacking and slicing her way behind Jon to the throne room. The warm spray of death blood made Eilobwy shiver. But they wouldn't have to go there, Ramsey burst through the doors, his closest and most insane guard with him. His eyes glittered maliciously. There was a brief moment when Jon's eyes met Ramsey's.

"I hear you have been looking for me, bastard." Jon sneered. "I've come to save you the trouble." Ramsey let out a wild cry and launched himself at them. His guard followed, the sound of meeting swords nearly drowned out by the cries of the dying Bolton men.

"Kill the Stark brat!" Ramsey shouted. Two of his men took off.

"Eilonwy!" Jon shouted, not looking away from Ramsey. Who had no skill in battle but his brutality almost equaled Jon's skill. Eilonwy ran after the Bolton guards, jumping over fallen bodies, whose blood was quickly turning ground muddy, even in the chilled night air. She drew a dagger and flung it at the guards, catching one in the shoulder. He spun with a cry of pain, landing on the ground. Eilonwy launched herself at the remaining guard, who parried easily. Eilonwy spun through the block and trust with the tip of her blade, grazing his ribs. He let out a surprised shout, stabbing at her wildly. She deflected most of the blows but one grazed down her shoulder. She bit back a cry of pain as she felt the hot blood flow down her arm. The man smiled with a mouth full rotted teeth and came at her carelessly. She easily spun and drove her blade in between the man's ribs.

Even after all these years, she was still surprised how easily the blade entered his torso. The man's eyes widened briefly in surprise as the tip of the blade pierced his heart. It shuttered for a few beats, the blood flowing around the hilt of her blade. His mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air as his knees gave out and he slid to the ground, dislodging her blade as his body accepted its death. Eilonwy stood still for a moment, causing a human death was never easy. But the hairs on the back of her neck began to tingle and she moved to the side just as a blade would have pierced her side. The second man had not accepted his death yet but it was near. Eilonwy easily avoided his wild blows as his body slowly gave out. Eilonwy spun through one wild move and swung her blade down, neatly severing his head from his shoulders. His body twitched twice and fell to the ground, continuing the spasm as his body died. It took minutes for his body to realize it was dead. Eilonwy clenched her jaw, and drove into the tunnel the two Bolton men had been heading for.

The tunnel was lit with touch every few paces. This past stunk of horrible death and Eilonwy could almost hear the pained cries of the tortured that had been absorbed by stone walls. She passed cell after cell of rotting bodies. Eilonwy felt bile rising in her throat, the stench was over whelming and making her eyes water. She heard a commotion a little bit in front of her, she pushed her legs harder and faster as the cries of a small fight got louder. She came up behind three Bolton men, who were fending off Hodor, Meera, and Summer. Eilonwy ran the first through without preambles. He helped in surprise and looked down at her shinning gutting out of his chest. The other two looked over the shoulders, surprised to find a blood soaked woman, their comrade's body sliding off her blade and landing with a heavy wet thuds on the ground. His heart still pumping blood out of his wounds. Eilonwy's appearance distracted them long enough for Meera to shoot an arrow through the back of one's head, the tip jutting out of his eye at Eilonwy. The second was taken down by Summer who launched at the last man, the impact making a heavy sound. His screams and the sound of tearing flesh filled the cavern.  
"Eilonwy!" Meera shouted, tugging at the lock. Eilonwy swung her blade, easily slicing through the lock with her Valryian steel. Meera pulled the door open and let out a curse. Eilonwy moved forward carefully, scared of what she would find. The smell of blood and pother bodily fluids permeated the cells air.

"Rickon?" She called out. "Rickon, we are here with Jon." The cell was so dark that Eilonwy could barely see in front of her face. She stood still in the entrance of the cell, her heart thundering in her chest, afraid they were already too late.

***  
Ramsey pushed Jon up the stairs of the battlement, his wild blows sending shivers up Jon's arms. Jon was aware of the battle around him being won, which only lead to Ramsey's wild state. Jon carefully deflected Ramsey's blow while picking his way among the bodies on the stairs and wall. Once on even ground, Jon was better able to defend himself.

"Winterfell is mine!!" Ramsey screamed wildly. Jon gritted his teeth against the brutal blows, trying to find an opening to end this. Ramsey continued to scream of the things that he had done. Each one only giving Jon strength. He felt his blood boil as Ramsey mentioned his nightly rape of Sansa. Even the mention of what was done to Theon, though Jon had no love for that man, angered him.  
Ramsey's blows were slowing down as Jon continued to deflect the blows, feeling weakness seep into his bones. Jon spun past on blow and slashed downward across his back. Ramsey arched his back, screaming in pain and rage. He spun on Jon and jabbed at him. Jon barely moved, the blade grazing his ribs. Jon grunted, staggering, barely bringing his blade up in time to block Ramsey's next blow. Vaguely Jon was aware that Bolton's men were all dead or dying. And his army had not lost a single man or woman. But he couldn't seem to find his footing on the blood slicked wall.

"Jon!" Rang out a deep voiced Jon barely recognized the man it belonged to. "Jon! Get up!" He called put. It was then that Jon recognized his young cousin, a near spitting image of Ned Stark at that age. He had bruises on the left side of his face. His eye nearly swollen shut but he was alive and standing on his own. Osha was being supported by Tormund and Eilonwy, she was in worse shape than Rickon, she could barely support her own weight, Jon could make out the dried blood on her legs, her hair was matted with blood, dirt, and gods knew what else. Her cry of pain rang in Jon's ears as Tormund lifted her into a cart to be wheeled to the main hall so Eilonwy could treat her. 

Jon's blood boiled, throbbing in his ears as he thought of Ramsey doing those awful things to Sansa. Sweet, innocent Sansa. Jon gave a feral cry as his forced Ramsey back, standing to his full height. Jon faced Ramsey with renew energy, blocking each of his wild blows with a skilled one. Getting him closer and closer to Ramsey. Waiting for the opening. Ramsey gave a wild cry, swing his blade down. Jon brought his blades up to meet Ramsey's.

For a moment the world stopped. Osha screamed again as Tormund touched a tender spot. Rickon called out Jon's name again. And Ramsey's eyes blushed in surprise as he looked down. Jon's hand was wrapped around the hilt of his dragonglass dagger, that was sticking into Ramsey's gut. A gasp escaped Ramsey, which turned into a cry of pain as Jon jabbed the blade up under Ramsey's rib cage. Piercing the bottom of his heart.

"That is for my family." Jon gritted his teeth. "And the North!" Jon twisted the blade, effectively slicing off the apex of Ramsey's heart, and yanked it out, feeling the rush of scalding life blood spilling against his leathers. Ramsey dropped his blade and gripped at the gapping wound in his stomach that gushed blood with each futile beat of his heart. Jon watched without regret, as Ramsey's life drained away. Ramsey's knees finally gave out and he toppled over the wall, to his death. Jon watched with cold eyes as Ramsey's head impact the rock below and shattered his skull, his brains stinging the snow red. Eilonwy looked up at Jpn as he descended the stairs, he looked so tired.

"What now?" She asked him, offering her hand, fingers splayed open. Jon's slick blood cover hand intertwined with hers. Jon took a deep breath and looked at the lightening sky. He looked around at the army.

"Gather all the dead. Pile them outside the wall and burn them. We don't want anymore bodies for the Walkers to use against us. Eilonwy and I will search out the remaining staff and begin preparing a hearty meal." Jon paused, looking up the battlement walls. "And for the god's sake, burn that fucking banner." The people nodded and set about the grisly task of rounding up all the dead, even the ones from the cells. Rickon rushed into Jon's arms, who squeezed him tightly. Jon pulled back and took Rickon's face in his hands. He gently touched the bruises. Rickon took his hand and shook his head.

"Osha is far worse, brother." Some of the spearwives wheeled Osha past them and into the hall, that had become a treatment area for any wounded. Eilonwy's hand gently touched Jon's shoulder. He looked at her, she motioned over her shoulder.

"I am needed, Jon. You and Rickon seek out the staff. You have much to talk about." Jon leaned down and kissed her softly on the mouth. Eilonwy breathed a sigh of relief and headed into the great hall. Many had been wounded but Osha was by far the worst. Eilonwy removed her bloodied leather top and washed her hands in the steaming pot of water. It was going to be a long day.


	12. Of the War Council

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is a delicious chapter for you my lovelys!

Chapter XI

Eilonwy was drentched in sweat and healing herb mixtures when Jon came to her late after high sun. Her own wound had been dressed by one of the insistent spearwives. Jon himself was bandaged and soot covered from the pyres outside the castle walls. She accepted his arms around her. 

"Osha?" He asked. Eilonwy sighed, knowing he would not like what she had to say.

"Broken wrist, broken ankle, several broken ribs, dislocated hip joint. Not to mention all the small cuts all over her body and damage to her ... internal parts. She will heal physically but her mind, I ... I am not sure about her mind, Jon." They looked toward Osha and Rickon. Rickon had taken her hand and was whispering to her. 

"Gods only know what they have been through." Jon whispered, kissing Eilonwy's hands. Eilonwy chose to remain quiet. For she did know. 

"Welcome home, Lord Stark." Said one of the many servants that Jon and Rickon had found cowering in the kitchen stores. Jon nodded and surveyed the great hall. Aside from Osha who lay on a make shift cot, everyone was in good spirits, drinking and laughing. Food spread out over the tables. Free folk, crows, and northern men all laughed and talked, sharing stories. 

"Howland has sent out riders with the news." Jon remarked. "I hope it reaches all corners of the North." But Eilonwy knew what he really meant. He hoped Sansa and Arya Stark would hear the news and come home. 

"Your quarters have been prepared, Lord Stark. And a bath drawn." Said a man behind Jon. He nodded his thanks and the man scurried off. 

"What have you decided?" Eilonwy asked, fully aware of the weight of that question. 

"Rickon doesn't want the throne. He always wanted to be a Knight. So he will be part of my counsel. Along with Tormund, Davos, and Reed. Both of them, if Meera decides to stay here." Jon looked down at the woman in his arms, thankful to whatever gods brought him to her. "And the banner... Well I come from two strong lines, so why not combine the symbols. The three headed dragon in the back, with the dire wolf over it." Eilonwy smiled. Jon never did anything traditional, that would make him great. She smiled and rest her head above his steadily beating heart. 

"Now that everyone is taken care of, come let us bathe and rest. Surely tomorrow will bring new challenges." Jon pulled her up the stairs to the Lord's room. Eilonwy came to a stop just past the huge wooden door, admiring the room. It was a huge chamber with an intricately carved four post wooden bed. A fresh mattress had been brought up, with fresh linens. A fire was burning warmly in the massive alcove and winter roses where is vases around the room. Two outfits had been laid out for the morning. Lord and Lady clothing. Eilonwy made a face at the dress and Jon let out a hearty laugh. 

"I need you by my side. The next weeks will be an endless parade of Northern Nobel's pledging their fealty." Jon said. "I have already asked Tormund, Davos and Howland to be with me. I need you too." Jon's eyes were soft and pleading. Eilonwy nodded, because after all, she was the one pushing him into this destiny.

"I will not wear a dress." She said firmly. Jon chuckled and nodded. 

"I have a servant waiting outside for your leathers. They will clean and shine them for you. So..." Jon's look turned mischievous. "Let's get you out of them." Eilonwy felt a blush creeping up her neck and into her face. She stood with her arms out, feeling his fingers untying her leathers and slipping them off her body until she stood in front of him in nothing but her cotton under things. Jon's look quickly became heated. 

"Off with those too. And into the bath while I give them to Alex." Eilonwy stripped and headed for the copper tub in the bath chambers. Yet another large chamber but with the tub in the center on a raised pedestal. Thankfully yet another fire burned warmly in a second but smaller alcove. Eilonwy ascended the three steps and slowly sank into the hot warm, letting out a throaty moan as she felt the water climbing up and over her tired, battle sore body. She heard Jon whispering to whoever Alex was and then the door shut. When she looked up, Jon was standing gloriously naked in the room. Eilonwy let her eyes roam over his battle hardened body, a body forged by survival instead of pride or vanity. He had put on a good stone, maybe two of muscle. His body, though dirty from battle, rippled with each step he took toward her. The dirt and blood only outlined his roped muscles. 

"I ... I think we may need more water." She stammered, horrible distracted by his erection that seemed to grow the closer he got to her. Jon nodded to the fire and Eilonwy noticed the five large buckets of steaming water. "Oh..." She said weakly as Jon climbed into the tub with her. He grabbed a cloth hanging beside the bed and the soap, made of vegetable and animal fats with salts and smelling strongly of roses. The second bar smelled of sandalwood. Jon lathered the cloth up and motioned for her to stand up. Eilonwy slowly stood, holding her arms out slightly away from her sides. A slow and very sexy smile spread across Jon's face as his eyes roamed over her body. Eilonwy swallowed thickly and did her best not the squirm under his scrutiny. 

Finally Jon hooked hand around her thigh and urged her closer to him in the tub. Eilonwy felt her heart flutter at his touch and then it began to thunder in her chest. With excruciating tenderness, Jon began to wash her. Slowly massaging the lathered cloth around her calf and up her thigh. Barely grazing her core as he washed her inner thigh and around her hip. Eilonwy's breath hitched as he moved down to her other calf and slowly worked his way up her leg, massaging as he went. Again grazing her core before moving to wash off her hind quarters, thoroughly massaging her butt and lower back, gently wiping away the filth from her stomach. He pulled gently on her hair, urging her to sit in the water while he lavished attention to her tender breasts and continued his slow torturous massage of her shoulders. She let out of soft moans of appreciation as his hands and the cloth moved over her shoulders and neck, releasing most, if not all the tension, in her upper back. He gently splashed water over her body, the warmth causing goosebumps on her chilled flesh. Then he took a liquid soap that was made for hair and massaged her scalp and rinsing out her hair. Removing all the blood, dirt, and grim from the last few days. Once she was clean and relaxed, she turned to Jon, her eyes heated. 

"My turn." She said in a throaty voice that made Jon's body react in the most pleasant of ways. Jon slowly stood out of the water and watched as Eilonwy lathered up a clean cloth, her eyes dancing hungrily over his sculpted body. The water leaving rivers through the dirt and gore that covered his body. Eilonwy moved on her knees toward him and began the tortuous task of washing his body. Jon's eyes were riveted on her menstruation as she cleaned each calf, then his thighs and butt. She grazed his balls and straining erection as she clean his hips and stomach. His roped muscle quivered under her touch, she kissed the tip of his member, causing him to jump and whimper. She smiled as she pulled him down into the water, to wash and massage his upper body. His knotted muscles seemed to relax under her skilled fingers. Finally she pulled his naked back against her own bared flesh and slowly worked the soap through his matted hair. It took almost as long to get his body clean as it did hers. And she enjoyed every moment of it. Jon stood abruptly and held his hand out to her. Eilonwy accepted his help out of the near black water. The chilled air assaulted her, her skin tightened around her body in the cold night air of Winterfell. Jon pulled the cork at the base of the tub and went to trpw some more wood in the fire, bringing it back to a roaring blaze. 

Eilonwy took a moment to marvel at the ingenuity of Winterfell. She had noticed before that at the center of the raised surface that the tub sat on was a hole. A drain of sorts that Eilonwy was such lead to the outside of the castle. Jon came over with a bucket, his muscle bunching in the most appealing way, as he dumped the cold water into the tub to rinse away what was left of the dort and gore. Then he replace the stopped and they filled it back up with the hot water that was left. 

Eilonwy and Jon sank back into the enveloping heat with a collective groan of appreciation. For a moment, they just sat in the hot water, their legs intertwined and looked at each other. Jon's gazed began to soften as his eyes wandered the bath chamber. Eilonwy could see the memories dancing through his eyes. 

"There was a time," he began. "When I didn't think I would ever see Winterfell again. I had no idea what awaited me as a Brother. I thought I would live my life in service at this Wall and die there like so many before me. But the Fates it seems had another plan for me." The fingers of his hands found hers across the brim of the tub. He brought her hands to his mouth, placing tender kisses in her palms. For once, when it came to talk of fates and destiny, Eilonwy was at a loss for words. So instead she stood up and stepped out of the tub. She turned to Jon and offered him her hand and for a moment he just looked at her. Steam was rising off her body in the cold, her nipples hardening in a becoming way, begging for his attentions. There was a sparkle in her eyes as she looked at him, her expression soft. In slowly extracted himself from the warm water, pulling the stopper as he went. He took her hand and she pulled his slick body against hers. 

"Sometimes," she said softly. "Not even the gods know what is to come." And she pulled his face down to hers, kissing him with every emotion she felt. She felt Jon's body responding to her and soon he had taken the lead, pushing her against the chilled wall of the chamber. Eilonwy let out a small gasp of shock as the wall touched her bare skin, like Winters own caress. Jon scooped her up, carrying her to the bed. His bed. Eilonwy, who had never felt much like a lady or delicate in any way, marvelled at how she had those exact feelings as she was cradlled in his muscular arms. Arms that she had helped shape and nurture. Jon put her on the feet at the edge of the bed and looked down into her multicolored eyes. Greens, blues, golds, even silver shinned in her dark ale eyes. The intention glowing in his eyes made her body clench with desire. He pushed her back until she sat roughly on the soft material of the bed. Giving her a molten look, he kneeled down and hitched her legs over his strong shoulders. Eilonwy breath hitched as she realized what he intended to do. His laid burning kisses up her thigh, sometimes gently biting her sensitive flesh. His hands dug into her hips, effectively holding her in place. Before she could even catch her breath, Jon dove into her core. She cried out as he sucked her sensitive nub into his mouth, gently rolling it between his teeth and flicking it with his tongue. Eilonwy felt a molten fire begin to build in her belly. Yet Jon had no mercy on her as he drove his fingers as deep as he could curling them and rubbing a surprisingly sensitive piece of flesh. Eilonwy arched against his mouth and hand, helpless against the building pressure in her lions. He looped his other hand underneath her back, pulling her as close as he could. 

"Jon," she whimpered. "Jon!" She cried louder her hands tangling in his drying hair, whether she was pushing him away or pulling him closer, she couldn't tell. But the pressure building in her body was almost unbearable. But just as her body began the first clenching of release, Jon suddenly pulled away from her. Eilonwy whimpered in protest only to have him mount her, slamming his body furiously into hers. She arched up against him, their shouts of pleasure mingled. Jon stood hilted into Eilonwy, his body shaking with glorious tension. He wanted to take her with a furious passion but didn't want to hurt her. But when he was able to look at her, he saw the same passion shining in her eyes. With a shout of surrender he wrenched his hips back and slammed them forward again. Eilonwy arched up to meet him and he saw stars, the pleasure of taking her like this nearly blinding him. Their bodies slammed furiously together as Jon pistoned himself in and out of her searing heat. Eilonwy felt her muscles begin to quiver, beckoning her release. Jon, unable to stop himself, hitched her legs over his shoulders and rove himself as deep and hard into her as he could. Her muscles suddenly clenched around him, pulling a horse shout from his lips and seed from his body. 

Jon collapsed on top of Eilonwy, his hips still gently rocking back and forward as the last of his seed was milked from his body by Eilonwy's inner muscles. For a brief moment he feared that her had hurt her but when he looked up into her eyes, the fire blazing there made his body begin to stir. The wicked smile that spread across Eilonwy's face made him rock hard again. 

"Not done yet, are you Jon?" She rolled her hips against him and he smiled a wicked promising smile of his own. 

"Oh I will make you regret doubting me," he whispered before taking one of her nipples in his mouth and cruelly sucking on it.

"Promises, promises Jon" she whispered back, pulling his face to hers, kissing him roughly. Jon growled in such a way it sent a shiver down Eilonwy's spine. And he spent much of the night fulfilling his promise.

***

Eilonwy was thankful to have the help of the lady dressing her, tying her leathers together for her. Eilonwy's body was deliciously sore after their night of feverish love making, followed by a few slow and tender until they both collasped in exhaustion, the sheets tangled around them. Eilonwy was sure that someone had come in to feed the fire again after they had fallen asleep because the fire was still burning warmly when the first knock came hesitantly on the door, annoucing that breakfast was ready. Jon and stiffly dressed and left the room after kissing her thoroughly. 

"And your hair, m'lady?" the maids voice was soft and friegthend. No doubt from the brutal, albeit short rein of the Boltons. She looked at the girl, whose head was bowed. Eilonwy gently reached for the girl's chin, bringing her inky black eyes up. 

"You have no need to fear us, child." Eilnowy said, the girl nodded mutely. Eilnowy supposed that Jon would have to prove to them that his rule would be kinder. "Plaited, please." Eilonwy said, sitting down in the chair for the girl to pamper her. Eilonwy felt a small smile playing on her lips as the girl let out a small gasp at the sight of Jon's bite mark, he had lost himself once or twice over the night. Eilonwy left a few marks on him as well. 

"Does he ... does he hurt you m'lady?" The question was almost so quite that she hadn't heard it. Eilonwy looked up into the frightened girl's face. 

"Not like that. Jon is not Ramsey." Eilonwy hadn't even thought about what they had seen or heard or endured under Ramsey's tyranny. "Think on it, young one. You saw me yesterday. Would I allow a man to harm me without my consent?" The girl's brow drew together as she puzzled it out. 

"No, m'lady." And the tension was out of her shoulders. "We just, heard somethings last night and worried." Eilonwy laughed softly. 

"We were ... celebrating." Eilonwy smiled very loving at the images of her and Jon tangled together, her hands pulling roughly at his hair, his hands roughly pinning her hips to the bed as he pushed and pulled himself in her. The young girl must have seen something comforting there because the smile she shared with Eilonwy brightened up the room. 

"I am Maddy." The girl said. 

"Eilonwy." they held each other's hands for a moment before maddy went back to her task of plaiting Eilonwy's unruly hair. 

***

Once she was "proper" she made her way down to the great hall that had been cleaned up and scrubbed of all the blood and other fluids. The wood of the tables gleamed in the morning light that filtered through the windows. A fire roared in the hearth and all gathered in the hall, laughing and talking and eating. Jon's eyes immediately found hers and filled with heat as he spotted the bruise coloring the meat of her shoulder just under her neck. Eilnowy felt a scarlet blush creeping up her neck and in to her cheeks, making her face flame. The smile that came across his face was far from the innocent smile he use to give her while they lived in her sanctuary. That smile was all mischief and dark promise, it sent a thrill through Eilonwy's veins. They ate breakfast in companionable talk, not discussing much other than to allow all to be around Winterfell, the only thing that Jon made very clear to all was the Direwolves where to remain untouched. Because of Ghost, Jon felt a fierce need to protect the returning wolf population. The Wildings and Brothers set out to scout the lands for defensive means or offensive tactics. That was what Jon was calling the war council convened. 

At the Lord's table, Tormund, Lord Reed, Ser Tully, Ser Davos, Rickon, and Melisandre gathered with Eilonwy and Jon. Some of Reed's spies had been reporting on the South and its growing issues. Many of which were troubling but none of which Jon was truly concerned about. What he needed to know was would the Lannister's attempt to come North now or would they try to gather their strength first and then attempt to march North. 

"Either way," Reed pointed to the land long called the Neck. "A strong Norhtern force here, with wildling tactics would keep them at bay." Jon nodded. His elbow was resting on the table, his chin in his hand as he looked over the maps. 

"We must secure the ports as well. The Lannister's have the King's navy at their finger tips. We would have to be sure that they could not out flank us." Ser Davos pointed to Deepwood Motte, Last Hearth, and the Dreadfort. 

"The Neck and Deepwood Motte are secure. We will have to send a force to Dreadfort to secure it..." Jon said rubbing his growing beard. "No mercy for the Boltons. I want a clear message to the Northern families. Unite or leave the North." He said and Eilonwy had expected no less.

"And what of Umber?" Demanded Rickon. "That traitor handed Osha and I to Ramsey practically gift wrapped!" Fire burned in Rickon's eyes, a fury that made Eilonwy wary of the young Stark. 

"He was only doing what he thought was best for his house." Ser Davos stated. 

"Lord Reed and Ser Tully, as well as the Veil did not betray the North. He could have hidden us or turned a blind eye and allowed us to move on. Osha .... " Rickon chocked on his words then and turned away from the men. 

"He speaks as if he loves her." Davos whispered. 

"He wouldn't be the first Stark to fall for a spearwife." Tormund responded, causing Jon to frown.

"I advise caution Jon. The Bolton's have wronged the North and many will rejoice in their slaughter." Many at the table grunted their agreement. "However, the Umbers are a proud house with a long and loyal history to the North." Rickon spun on her, fury blazing fresh in his eyes but her ice cold stare silenced whatever words he had intended to say. 

"Though they have wrong the Stark house, they have done nothing to the North. If you wipe them out as well, you will not have enough men to secure your hold or your claim. Then the Lannisters will sweep up from the South with their forces. The North must be a united front if it is to remain free." Jon nodded but his had the same fire burning in his own eyes. 

Suddenly the doors of the great hall slammed open. A disheveled red head rushed in, followed closely by an excruciatingly tall blonde warrior. The red head was breath taking but her beauty was marred by blood, dirt , and what Eilonwy could only guess was tears. The blonde was clearly a gargantuan woman, whose soft featured face was set in grim determination as she eyed the table of the counsel. Jon and Rickon were instantly on their feet, stunned into silence. Both of their mouths fell open as recognition set in. 

"Sansa?" Jon's voice was barely a whisper but it seemed impossibly loud in the previous silence. Sansa gave a little gasping sob and launched her self toward her family. Jon and Rickon met her in the middle of the Hall, the boys nearly taken to the ground by the impact. The three of them just clung together while they rode the waves of emotions. Eilonwy glanced at the warrior and found the confused face she was wearing amusing. Eilonwy followed the warrior's line of sight and found Tormund, who had always been drawn to strong women, eyeing the warrior with obvious lust. The disconcerted warrior looked desperately elsewhere, obviously uncomfortable with attentions she was not used to getting. Jon had released Sansa and approached his eyes shinning with gratitude. 

"Brienne of Tarth ... I am forever in your debt for returning Sansa safely to us. What can I do to show my thanks?" He asked, taking her hand. Brienne's hands were nearly as large as Jon's and just as calloused. 

"Highness" she bowed her head to Jon's hands. "I ask only to remain here, as a member of your guard, so I may fulfill my oath to Lady Catelyn." Jon paused, a thoughtful look on his face. 

"Granted, my Aunt was an honorable woman. No doubt she would be pleased to have kept Sansa safe. I would like you to lead what will be come the guard as well as sit on the counsel with us." Jon waved his arm to the side, showing the table. 

"Your aunt?" Sansa voiced the question in Brienne's eyes. 

"Lyanna Stark was my mother, Rhaegar Targaryen was my father. I was never a bastard. But Ned his the truth of my line from Robert Baratheon after swearing an oath whole my mother lay dying from blood loss. He raised me as his own to keep his promise." Sansa looked as though she would cry again. She had taken her mother's side while she was a child and had been cruel to Jon. "I regret the pain it cause Lady Stark and wish that she had known before her murder that Ned was never unfaithful." Jon sat back down at the table, and Brienne sat as far from Tormund as she could. Sansa sat with Rickon beside Jon. 

"So what are you going to do about Umber?" Davos asked. 

"Eilonwy is right, we can't slaughter his house for trying to protect his family. That being said, his actions can not be ignored." Jon had a thoughtful look on his face and Eilonwy smiled as she saw his thought process. "Lord Reed, if you would send out riders, summon all the Northern families Lords here to Winterfell. I believe we have sometime to set things in order before the South comes. And we must not forget that Winter is coming." 

"Of course." Reed said. " What should the letters say?"


	13. Of Gathering Nobles & Blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the end of the chapter is a bit brutal. I am giving Sansa some much needed closure with Eilonwy's help. Enjoy, dear readers. More is coming.

Chapter XII

Eilonwy watched from the window of Jon's chambers as the seemingly endless procession of Northern Lords and Ladies files through the gates of Winterfell. Many stopped to stare at the new flag baring a three headed dragon, topped by a Dire Wolff's growling head. Rumor of Jon's true birth had circulated the North and had no doubt reach King's Landing. But the South had enough problems. King Tommen had made no move, subtle or overt.

Eilonwy reflected on the last few days. All of the Wildlings, aside from Tormund, had retreated to the Wolfswood followed by many of the crows. Each group swore to leave the other in peace. Both were uncomfortable with politics of the "South", anything south of the Wall baffled their warrior minds. Many had thought and lived as Jon had. For the Wall or for protection of family. Politics were nasty business that many at the Wall and above had no use for. A small force had been dispatched to wipe out what was left of House Bolton. 

Eilonwy watched as Lord Umber and his delegation came through the gate. He looked positively ill. Eilonwy smirked, Jon had explained his plan and it satisfied all in the counsel. She could understand his discomfort. He probably never dreamed that the Stark family could or would retake Winterfell. She heard Maddy call to her softly, her leathers had been laid out and she stood in her cloth under garments. Maddy motioned for her to sit in the chair, Eilonwy nodded and walked over, sitting gracelessly.

"Tight braids this time, please Maddy. Fighting maybe necessary. I want to be functional not look pretty." Maddy nodded.

"You are always pretty m'Lady." Maddy said, Eilonwy smiled thinking of herself nearly dretched in battle and her eyes shinning with blood lust. She simply nodded to Maddy and let the girl work.

***  
Eilonwy stood at Jon's left side as the nobles filed in. Brienne stood by Tormund, much to her horror. Eilonwy felt bad for the poor woman, who didn't seem to know how to handle his obvious attraction or intentions. Davos stood at the bottom of the stairs across from Ser Tully. Reed stood beside Eilonwy, his bow resting lightly against the ground. It was a deceptive posture. Eilonwy knew that if need be, he could draw and fire before many could blink. 

Jon sat in the Lord's chair and simply watched as the nobles came into the hall. Only Eilonwy, who knew him so well could see the tension in his shoulders and the tense set of his jaw. Many looked over the little display and most where very startled to find it was Jon who sat in the throne, not Rickon or even Sansa. But Umber looked like he relaxed a little, for if Rickon had taken over, blood would have been shed here today. Eilonwy silently hoped it would not be necessary, that Jon could provide a peaceful transition into Northern rule.

"Here we go," whispered Reed from beside Eilonwy. They both felt the tension in the room. She kept her senses alert to any kind of threatening movement from any in the crowd. Jon, for his part, seemed relax to the on coming nobles. 

After all of the nobles where in place, Jon nodded and the large doors were closed with a resounding thud, making many jump. Silence rang through the hall as Sansa and Rickon entered from the side, taking their seats on the lower level of the throne stair way. Rickon was staring daggers at Umber and his party. In his letter, Jon had requested that all who had had a hand in Rickon and Osha's surrender be present with their families. 

One by one, Jon called out the names of the houses in a clear, deep voice that rang through the hall. One by one each house came forth to pledge their allegiance to the North, swearing fealty to Jon and the House Stark. When Jon called out to Umber, the hall fell silent. Rickon had a wicked gleam in his eye that would make even the most hardy of men pause. 

"House Umber, you have long been held in regard as some of the greatest warriors of the North. You have ever been aligned with House Stark. And yet..." Jon paused, looking over the families that had stepped forward. "You stand here today accused of crimes against House Stark, for the surrender and subsequent torture of Rickon Stark and the spearwife Osha, who is at this moment clinging to what life she has left." Rickon tensed at the mention of Osha's name. His knuckles turning white as he gripped his chair arms. Lord Umber swallowed nervously. 

"What do you have to say for yourself?!" shouted Rickon, launching up from his chair. Lord Umber took a small step back. 

"Rickon," Jon's voice was soft but commanding. Rickon clenched his jaw but took his seat. Sansa reached out for her brother's hand. For a moment, Eilonwy thought he would not take it but as tears filled his eyes, he reached for his sister's hand. 

"I did what I thought was best, in the face of the Wilding invasion!" shouted Umber. There was a murmur that ran through the crowd. Tormund gripped the hilt of his sword. Eilonwy felt her own muscles tensing, this was not going the way she had hoped. Jon simply nodded, holding up his hand for silence. Slowly the murmurs subsided. 

"Did the free folk attack any of your people?" Jon asked, his black as night eyes locking on Lord Umber. 

"No," the Lord answered. 

"Did they steal any of your crops?" Jon continued. 

"No," the Lord's voice was getting weaker. 

"Did they harm any of your cattle or live stock?" Jon pressed. 

"No," the Lord looked defeated. 

"The Free Folk crossed the Wall with the knowledge that they would be at peace with the Northern families. They sought only to escape the slaughter of their own people. They have agreed to unite with my forces to fight against the on coming Winter, against the Walkers and their wights.Because make no mistake, they are coming." Jon stayed sitting but the entire room was on edge, hanging on everything he said. "Winter is coming. And it is bring an ugly death with it, unless we ban together." Eilonwy felt her heart thundering in her chest as the Northerners began looking at each other, clearly nervous. 

"So Lord Umber," Jon's voice drew all attention back to him. "For the Bolton's transgressions against the North, I have already dispatched a small force to Dreadfort. There will be no mercy for them so long as they are in the North." A few shouted their approval but Umber looked paler by the minute. 

"For your transgression against House Stark, in payment for betraying the youngest of our house, we demand that you surrender the youngest son from each of the families that participated in the surrender of Rickon Stark and the spearwife Osha. They will live here as wards of House Stark and serve in the new King's guard,to be lead and trained by Brienne of Tarth." Brienne puffed out her chest with pride as eyes fell to her. "And once a year, you will pay a sum for their up keep." Umber and his men broke out into protest but none of the families around him moved to second his protest. Jon stood slowly and descended the stairs, coming to rest in between Rickon and Sansa, whose hand's were still joined. He placed his hand on either of their shoulders and locked eyes with Umber.

"Lord Umber, if Rickon had his say, you and yours would be slaughtered here on this stone floor, left to bleed in dark, dank cells, or raped mercilessly until their throats are too raw to cry out for mercy they would never find." Sansa felt a tear slid down her cheek. "I am being merciful. I did not say that you would never be able to see them or they you. I simply stated that they and the families they will have some day will serve as guard to the very house that you betrayed. And if you rise up against us, their lives will be forfeit." Jon's voice had gone very quite and very cold. Lord Umber looked at his feet in shame. His father would never have betrayed House Stark. All of the other Northern families had launched a revolt but he, he had committed treason. 

"Please, Lords and Ladies. Feast, drink and be merry. For a time will come soon when merriment will be a distant memory on the battle field." Jon's word hung heavy in the air as the food was brought in and everyone took their seats. Eilonwy reached out for Jon's hand as he neared her. He was carrying a heavy burden now and she could see it on his shoulders. 

"I count twelve, Eilonwy." He whispered as they took their places at the King's table, with his counsel and Sansa. "Twelve boys Rickon's age, some younger." She nodded, squeezing his hand in comfort. 

"You did the right thing, Jon. Those boys will grow to be warriors for a noble house, for a noble cause. Lord Umber may resent you, but he lives and now the Northern families know that you have mercy in your heart." Jon looked sideways at her, a small grin on his face. 

"You are my anchor, Eilonwy. I fell as if I would be lost without your guidance." He kissed her knuckles and set about eating. Eilonwy felt a small tug of guilt on her heart. Gods, could she be strong enough to do what needed to be done to save his life? She hoped so. 

"Sansa?" Brienne's worried voice drew Eilonwy's attention to the young Stark, who had gone very pale. Eilonwy sat up straighter and leaned toward Sansa. She was gripping her lower stomach. 

"Gods," She whispered. Brienne and Eilonwy made eye contact and they quickly swept her out of the hall. They were half way to her room when she doubled over and bit back a scream of pain. 

"Sansa?" Brienne asked again, worry lacing her voice. Eilonwy looked at the woman curled up on the floor in front of her. 

"How far, Sansa?" Eilonwy asked, Sansa looked up at her with shinning tears streaming down her face. She just shook her head, Brienne cast Eilonwy a bewildered look. "I must know Sansa, I can help." Eilonwy kneeled down and took one of her hands in both of hers. Sansa's hands were ice cold and trembling. 

"A few moons, maybe. I .... I am not sure." She whimpered as another wave of agony tore through her. Eilonwy nodded. 

"Brienne," Eilonwy motioned and Brienne, who scooped up Sansa and they rushed down the hallway. 

"Maddy!!" Eilonwy shouted as the neared Sansa's room. The young girl came running. 

"M'Lady?!" the girl was clearly startled. 

"I need a hot bath drawn for Lady Sansa with yarrow, sage, oregano, and nettle. I need a cold tea of red raspberry leaf, as well as lavender oil and lemon balm. Now, please Maddy." Eilonwy rushed Brienne and Sansa into the bathing chamber. "Into the the tub please, Brienne." Brienne gently laid Sansa into the tub, the poor woman whimpered. 

"Clothes off, put a sheet over the rim of the tub." Maddy and one other maid, Sophia, came rushing in with the herbs and a mortar/pestle for Eilonwy. Who quickly shredded and ground the herbs she would need. Quickly buckets of hot and cold water were brought in. Eilonwy mixed the buckets and the herbs, murmuring to herself before pouring the mixture over Sansa's shivering body. By that time, blood had begun to leak out of Sansa and Brienne had taken Sansa's hand. 

"Squeeze girl. I am here." Brienne was murmuring to Sansa. 

"The tea, m'Lady." Maddy handed her a cooled cup of tea. She handed it to Sansa. 

"Drink, child. It will help." Eilonwy went about her work continuing the bath for Sansa to soak in when a furious pounding came to the door. Sansa jumped and let out a startled scream. Eilonwy went to the door, stripping off her leathers and tossing them on the floor. She cotton under things were already drenched in herbs, water, and blood. She opened the door a crack and found to worried faces of Jon and Rickon. 

"Eilonwy?" there was a question to his voice, a worry. She shook her head. 

"No, Jon. This is women's business. I will take care of her." She reached out and placed her hand softly on Jon's cheek, then Rickon's. "Go and be seen." Sansa's muffled cry drew Eilonwy's attention. 

"Go, Jon. Be king." She pulled him close and plants a kiss on his lips before she shut to door. Eilonwy returned to find the water teeming with blood and chucks of tissue. 

"Drain it. More water and herbs!" Eilonwy ordered, the room bustled with activity as Sansa screamed through another contraction. "Sansa, I need your legs bent please. This next part of going to be very uncomfortable." Sansa complied, whimpering softly as she clung to Brienne's hand. Eilonwy reach down into the water to grip the part of the miscarriage that had forced its way out. Once she had her hand wrapped around the bloody tissue, she looked at Brienne and nodded subtly. Brienne reached into the water and wrapped her arms around Sansa's upper body, holding the girl in place. 

"Okay, Sansa. On three I am going to gently pull what is left out of you, you will have to push. It is going to hurt. But after this you will be free of him and his evil stain on your life. Maddy, please bring me that black cloth and be ready. Sophia, please be ready with the next set of water for Lady Sansa." All nodded as Eilonwy began to count. At three Eilonwy gave a gentle tug on the tissues, feeling it give as Sansa gritted her teeth, pushing, and it slid the rest of the way out of Sansa. She quickly passed off the undeveloped child to Maddy, who wrapped it in the black cloth and spirited it away. Eilonwy pulled the plug of the tub and watched as the blood slowed its flow. She placed the stopper back and nodded to Sophia to pour the last bucket over Sansa. 

After Sansa was resting a bit more comfortably in the water, EIlonwy ushered the maids out with strict instructions to not speak of it to anyone and to not allow anyone back. They both nodded their agreement and Eilnowy once again closed the door. She leaned her back against the wood for a brief moment and drew in a deep breath. She glanced at the lavender oil and lemon balm, made from lemon skins and cured animal marrow. She grabbed a clean thick linen and headed into the bathing chamber. She found that the water was only tinted with blood, which was a good sign. 

"Sansa?" Both pairs of blue eyes looked at her. She held out the clean thick linen. Sansa nodded and stood, using Brienne for support. She stepped into the linen and Eilonwy wrapped her in it. She lead Sansa to her bed, a fire roaring in the hearth. 

"Laid down, please." As Sansa laid down and Brienne pulled up a chair, Eilonwy gathered her oil and balm. Eilonwy carefully parted the sheet over Sansa's womb and began to gently massage her muscles with the lavender and lemon balm. She kneaded the swollen area, encouraging it to retake its shape and relase its clench. Sansa felt tears dripping down the side of her face. 

"Eight to ten rises of the moon, you may bleed. I will bring you red clove tea and bone broth everyday to help in your recovery. I can see Brienne will not leave your side. You can soak in the same herbs we were using if you like. Minimal movement, Sansa. Give your body time to heal." Eilonwy concentrated on her massage when Sansa spoke so soft, she almost didn't hear. 

"Will I?" She had asked. Eilonwy smiled softly, in a very motherly way. It reminded Sansa immediately of her mother and she felt a pang of loss. 

"Of course. We women are much stronger than men give us credit for. You survived and escape the hell that Ramsey put your through. You can and will do anything you please, Sansa. You are home, where you are safe and can heal. But do not wallow here and waste away. He will win. And we must never let them win." Eilonwy took Sansa's chin between her thumb and first finger. Sansa nodded and sat back into her bed, with Brienne settling into the chair for the night. 

"My brother, er, cousin loves you." Sansa said as Eilonwy gathered her things to leave. Eilonwy looked down at the young woman and nodded. 

"I know." she murmured. 

"Do you love him?" Sansa asked, very keen all of the sudden to hear her answer. Eilonwy took in a deep breath and smiled to herself more than to Sansa. 

"More than my own breath." Eilonwy murmured before slipping out the door and closing it quietly behind her.


	14. Of Lords and their issues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter closer my dear readers. Jon comes face to face with some of the expectations of being King that he hadn't thought about.

Chapter XIII

Eilonwy grabbed one of the thick fur coats before she headed outside. She needed a breather, to be alone for a while. She looked up at the stars, the ones that were still visible. She could see the edges of the Winter storm far far to the North, but the snow was beginning to fall here. She looked toward the hall where all were still gathered, drink and feasting. She saw the burning light from Sansa's room. 

Eilonwy felt a sick twist in her own stomach at what the poor woman had been through, not just tonight but the events leading to her pregnancy. Her hand drifted down to her own stomach. How she wished but now was not a time for carrying children. Especially for a warrior such as herself, whose skill with both blade and healing was needed. But she could easily see small children with curly dark hair and shinning black eyes running through Winterfell. Eilonwy took in a deep breath of freezing air, feeling it sear her throat and lungs. She exhaled through her mouth, watching the plum form. She sat down in one of the darker corners and a pale form appeared beside her. His monstrous head pushed against her and she smiled, scratching behind the ear that was closest to her.

"Hello, Ghost." She murmured to the Dire wolf, who seem to know Winterfell's passages better than anyone. He laid his giant head across her lap as she continued to pet him.

"Oh what do I do, Ghost?" she asked softly. "I want so much to be here with Jon, grow old, and give him the children he deserves." Ghost blew out a huff of air, like he understood her problem.

"You are right, what comes to pass is still undetermined. If all passes as I hope, maybe I can." Ghost huffed again but kept his heavy head resting on top of her legs. They stayed like that, until her fingers and toes had gone numb and the fires in the hall had burned down to an embers glow.

"Eilonwy?" Jon's voice softly called to her from his room. She nodded and Ghost looked her in the eyes. Eilonwy got the distinct sense of intelligence shining through his eerie red eyes. She leaned down and kissed his nose before heading inside to Jon. Ghost watched her get safely inside before melting back into the darkness to do what wolves do at night.

Eilonwy pushed open Jon's door. He was standing with his back to her, his forearm resting on the stone mantle, his gazed seemed miles away as he looked into the flames. Eilonwy closed the door with a soft click, Jon started and looked up at her. His smile was so pure that it took her breath away. He held out a hand for her and her feet were moving before she had made the choice in her mind.

"So this is what it is like..." She thought but didn't dare say it aloud. Jon pulled her into his arms and just inhaled her scent. She smelled of herbs and winter. A scent that was all her, it was the first thing he remembered smelling after she brought him back from the brink. Jon felt better, more at ease with Eilonwy in his arms. His mind thinking back to the events of the night.

***  
Jon and Rickon walked back into the great hall after being dismissed by Eilonwy. Both felt ill for Sansa and what she had endured for gods know how long. Jon didn't know how she found the strength but he would be eternally grateful to Brienne for keeping her safe. The scene they returned to was not what they expected. The Lords were in an uproar, yelling at one another while Ser Tully, Ser Davos, Lord Reed, and Tormund looked on, all shaking their heads. Jon approached his council members with his eyebrows raised, a clear question on his face.

"They are arguing over Eilonwy and her presence at your side." Howland revealed, pinching the bridge off his nose in an effort to stem the on coming headache.

"She is a member of the council, that is all they need ever know." Jon felt his back go ramrod straight and his shoulders stiffen.

"Aye, but people talk Jon. They seem to know who she is to you, whether you want it or not. And they are saying a Wilding woman is not fit to be Queen of the North." Tormund huffed beside Ser Davos. "It is politics, Tormund." He chidded.

"It is horse shit." Tormund spat on the floor to punctuate his dislike. "She is more fit to lead than any know."

"That may be, but to the Northern nobles, who have long held to wild stories of your people, it would be an affront to all the Lord's with eligible daughters." Reed supplied. Jon face had lost all its color as they continued to talk.

"Marriage?!" Jon's face had turned an alarming shade of red, the room had gone silent and all eyes were on him. "The world may end and you lot are arguing about who should be Queen!?" Many eyes turned down, others looked at one another, clearly vexed by their new King's response to what they viewed as a legitimate arguement.

"The North can not be united behind just one ruling family." Cried one of the Lords. Jon spun on him with fire burning in his eyes but before Jon could release the rage there and soft but commanding voice interrupted.

"Now is not the time for squabbling over politics or position." Said Lord Manderly, which made Jon instantly suspicious. But the Manderly family was the second most powerful Northern family next to the Stark's and Jon knew it. Even thought Lord Manderly, himself was larger than any man ought to be, his mind was still sharper than many would ever be.

"We have a country to fortify and a war to win and apparently a world to save. Marriage can wait until after." The other Lords seemed to bow to his request, each wondering off toward their provided rooms, many grumbling still about the Wilding woman.

"My thanks, Lord Manderly." Jon murmured. The rotund man simply nodded and toddled ff, humming a tune to himself. Jon and his council were left in a stunned silence.

"I think we know which family your future wife will come from, Jon." Reed muttered. Jon felt ill at having to marry someone other than Eilonwy. He had fully intended to marry her once the Winter was beaten back once again and all had seen what she was capable of.

"But Howland, I do not want to marry one of his grand daughters." Jon sounded like whining brat to even his own ears.

"In your position Jon, you can not marry for love." Howland clapped him on the shoulder. "Robb did and he was murdered for it. Both he and his lovely, pregnant wife. Lyanna ran away to marry for love and Robert began a rebellion that cost her that love and an entire family was massacred." Jon slumped down into a waiting chair.

"Love and understand can grow in an arranged marriage, Jon." Reed thought for his own Lady wife and the beautiful children that came. "Your Uncle and Aunt grew to love each other very much. It is a good sign, Jon. That Manderly has taken your side. You know the power he holds in the White Knife, to say nothing of his strategic genius. I hear both Wynafryd and Wylla are beauties beyond compare and fierce as she wolves. Either would serve you well as both wife and Queen." Jon huffed but said no more. 

"Don't make the same mistake your cousin made, lad." Ser Tully grunted. "If your lass is half as smart as you believe her to be, she will understand." Jon felt positively ill. He hadn't truly thought that far into the future, he had be so focused on regaining Winterfell and building their defenses against the Night's King and his Walkers that marriage had never really come to mind. He knew his dreams had been to rebuild the North, rebuild the Watch to its former glory, marry Eilonwy and have fat children. His dreams and hope for the future with Eilonwy popped like a bubble and he felt defeated.

"Go Jon." He wasn't sure who said it but he complied, heading for his room.

***  
Jon took a deep breath again, relishing Eilonwy's smell as it scorched down his throat and into his lungs. He was still troubled by the Lords. Why was she not fit to be a Queen? She was the strongest warrior he had ever met, she saved much of the Wilding population, she saved his life, help them retake Winterfell, healed countless wounded, including Rickon and Sansa. Jon was sure she would make a wonderful Queen.

"Jon?" Her soft voice brought him back. He mentally shook himself, remembering that the last time he saw her, she had blood on her arms.

"Sansa?" He asked.

"She will be fine. Loosing that baby was the best thing that could have happened. She will be on bed rest for a day or two. Red clover tea and bone broth to help her body replenish what it has lost. But she will heal" Eilonwy said, looking up into his eyes. She frowned, there was a whole different trouble there. "Jon? What is it?" He took a deep breath and slowly let it out, causing her hair to stir.

"The Lords were whispering about you." He said but Eilonwy only frowned at him. "They are saying I must marry a daughter from one of the Noble families of the North. That you being part of Free Folk, are not fit to be Queen." Eilonwy watched Jon's face carefully as the emotions passed. He was very cleary upset by the Lords assumptions and demands. But it was something she had known would come to pass. Though she wanted very much to be his wife and the mother to his children, the North would never accept her fully because she was not considered 'of them'. 

"Jon, you must listen to them." She said softly. Jon's whole body went rigid as he registered her words.

"What?" His voice was ice cold as his eyes searched hers. She stepped away from him to stand by the window, looking back at him. His whole body was tensed up.

"Jon, marriage is not for love when you are a King. Marriage is to form allegiances with other powerful families. To solidify you hold on the North, you must marry who they ask." Eilonwy tried to make her voice soft and gentle to lessen the impact of her words. Jon's eyes began to blaze with fury.

"I am King, I can marry whoever I want." But she was already shaking her head.

"No, Jon." She replied softly. "Being a leader is not about dictating how things will be simply because that is what you want. Being a King is about listening to your peoples needs and wants and doing what is best for all. Be fair and just, Jon." As she went on, Jon's anger melted and he seemed to surrender to the weight he now had to bare. He slumped into a chair near the fire and her heart ached for him.

"I don't want to be King." Jon murmured softly. Eilonwy nodded but didn't move toward him.

"But you are, Jon." She looked out the window to see the edge of Winter blocking out the stars to the North. Jon scrubbed his face and stood up. Suddenly he looked at her, his eyes searching her face.

"Do you not want to be my wife?" The question was spoken so softly, Eilonwy knew that it was because he was afraid of the answer. She felt tears gather in her eyes as she dropped her hands to her side, fists clenched.

"I do, Jon. It is mad and can never be, but I could not imagine a better way to spend my life. To give you the children your deserve, to grow old with you." She could see the happiness mixed with pain shinning in his eyes. She was sure it mirrored her own. "But we are slaves to our positions. You must marry a Northern Noble and must do what I do." A single tear slipped down Jon's face, pain ripped through Eilonwy's chest, her heart faltering. Nothing, she was sure, would hurt more than losing a future with Jon. But she didn't bring him back from Death so that they could live quietly in her cavern. She brought him back because Westeros needed him. The North needed him. She couldn't be selfish like that with so many lives on the line. No matter how much it would hurt to let him go to be the King he is meant to be. 

Jon looked at Eilonwy, the pain clear on her face. And he knew, without a doubt that she loved him. As much as he loved her. But he also knew that she and the council were right. He was not free as the King. He had responsibilities to his people and the other Nobles' would not support his claim unless he married another Noble. Jon felt his heart ache for the future that they would never have, the little children with brown or black hair and her unusual eyes. He mourned for the little girl he would never get to meet that would smile her mother's mischievous smile at him. Jon looked at her, all her beauty and pain evident in her features, and resolved to make to most of the time they did have. If he couldn't keep her, he would enjoy every moment he had left with her. 

"Come to bed?" He asked as he strip off his Lord's clothing and slipped under the thick furs. "I don't want to spend the time we have left mourning the future we will not get." Eilonwy felt a tear slip down her cheek. Jon's strength never stopped amazing her. She nodded and slipped out of her rest of her leathers and cotton under things, feeling the cold touch her skin. She softly padded over to the bed and Jon lifted up the furs to welcome her under. His warmth radiated toward her as he pulled her underneath him, his intentions very clear when she felt his erection against her hip. She ran her hand along his cheek and back into his hair, the silky curls tickling her palm. 

"For the time we have left, Jon, you have all of me." Jon leaned down and captured her lips. Kissing her with all the emotion he had, he kissed her for the future they would never have and he made sure that she would never doubt where his heart wanted to be.


	15. Of Interactions

Chapter XIV

Eilonwy was up before the rest of the castle the next morning, relishing the feel of Jon's arms holding her naked body to his. She had turned toward him, her eyes roaming freely over his face. In sleep, he looked so peaceful, like none of the weight of being King and the sacrifices he would have to make were on his shoulders. She had hoped that the issue of his marriage would have waited to be brought up until after the war was won, if it was won. But it seemed that the Lords were as petty as they were dense. 

'Expect for Lord Manderly,' her mind reminded her. After they had made love, Jon recounted the whole story to her, including Lord Manderly interference on his behalf. Eilonwy suspected, just as Jon did that Lord Manderly had not only displayed his power and influence to Jon but to the other Lords as well. Effectively showing all that if Jon wanted to remain King, it was a Manderly he would have to marry. Smart play, Eilonwy had to give the old Manderly that and some respect. She knew that either of his grand daughters would be a good match for Jon but her heart ached at the idea of having to give him up. She knew that if she survived this coming battle, she would return to her cavern for she could not stay here and watch Jon be with someone else. But he was right, that was a problem for after the battle was won. Eilonwy knew that many things were still unknown. She could not see the end, she just knew who the pieces were. 

Eilonwy lay there in the warmth of Jon's arms and listened to Winterfell as it began to slow process of waking up. She could smell the fires of the kitchen as they began to laborious job of feeding all of the Nobles. The Wildings, for their part, hunted and fed themselves. Jon had given instructions for the farmers of Winterfell to begin teaching the Wildings how to harvest from the Earth. Many had fallen in love with the baked breads and honey of Winterfell and were eager to learn how to make such things. Others still stuck with the old ways, hunting and gathering. Eilonwy knew that soon she would need to leave Jon and go see to Sansa, as well as many of her other charges. Osha was still mending and some of the wounded from the battle to retake Winterfell would need tending. 

Resolved, she carefully slipped from Jon's embrace and quickly looked for her leathers. Much to her annoyances, they were not clean, since she had not done it herself last night. She smiled as she thought of the reason she had not cleaned them. She looked at the gown that hung beside the wash basin. Some of the maids were still scandalized that she wore pants like a lord and insisted on leaving a fresh gown out for her. She gritted her teeth and slipped into the gown, tying it up. She did slip on a clean pair of cotton underpants before she slipped into her second pair of boots. She grabbed the healers apron that Maddy had cleaned for her and placed a quick kiss on Jon's mouth before slipping out. She went immediately to the kitchen, where everyone was already hard at work. 

"My Lady!" cried Sophia, clearly startled to see her not only up but dressed in a gown. 

"I need the broth and tea for Lady Sansa, please Sophia." She kept her voice as clam as she could while the staff ogled her. It was the first time and hopefully last she would be in a gown. "And have my leathers cleaned please. I need to attended to the wounded and haven't the time." Sophia curtsied to Eilonwy and began to task of gathering the supplies for Sansa. Maddy joined in by quickly gathering Eilonwy's healer's supplies in a side bag so Eilonwy could grab the bag and be off to the infirmary. Eilonwy accepted the tray from Spohia and quickly made her way to Sansa's room, not wanting to be stared at any longer by the staff. 

***  
Sansa's room had been kept warm by Brienne, who kept the fire going all night. The warrior looked very tired but refused when EIlonwy offered to allow her to sleep. The warrior had only muttered that her charge needed her. Eilnowy understood that mentality. When she had first been nursing Jon back to health, she barely slept for fear he would pass on completely while she was sleeping. Eilonwy again kneaded Sansa's womb, encouraging it back into form. 

"It doesn't hurt so bad today." Sansa observed as Eilonwy broke out in a sweat while kneading. Sansa delicately sipped her broth as she watched Eilonwy carefully. 

"That is good, Sansa. Soon enough the day will come that you will feel no pain at all." EIlonwy smeared more lavender and lemon balm on Sansa, working it in to her skin. 

"I have heard about the Lords' demands." Sansa stated bluntly. Eilonwy's kneading paused as she looked at Sansa. "What are you going to do?" The girl asked. 

"I will do what is best for the North, Sansa." Eilonwy said simply, starting the kneading up again. Sansa seemed confused for a moment but didn't question Eilonwy. Once Eilonwy was done, she left Sansa with strict instructions to rest and continue drinking the broth and tea through out the day. 

***  
Eilonwy made her way quietly to the infirmary, there were at least a dozen wounded that needed to be tended. She had grabbed her bag from the kitchen and been off before anyone could stare at her more. But she still heard the whispers through the castle about how she looked like a proper lady today. She gritted her teeth and made her way down the dark hallway. Proper lady her ass. She untied the sleeves to roll the fabric up around her elbows, not wanting herb mixtures to stain the gown. 

As she neared the infirmary, she heard something that she wasn't prepared to hear. A booming laugh rang down the hall, joined by others. Eilonwy paused in the door way of the infirmary, stunned. The largest, roundest man she had ever seen was sitting by the fire place, surrounded by the wounded and they were all rolling in the laughter. The massive man's double chin was covered in greying yellow blonde hair. His head held a generous helping of blonde hair that seemed soft and wavy. His cheeks were red with laughter, merriment, and probably a health helping of ale. His shinning bright blue eyes reminded Eilonwy of summer skies, free of clouds. When his eyes met hers, his mouth turned up in a genuine smile. 

"My Lady Eilonwy," Many of the soldiers stood as her presence was announced by one of the maids milling about with breakfast. The Lords eyes were keen as he looked her up and down. 

"So this is the famous Eilonwy." He lumbered to his feet and beckoned her closer. She ground her teeth but in an effort to not make Jon's life hard she came forward. Surprisingly, the Lord smelled strongly of wintergreens. 

"For your joints?" she asked and his bushy eye brow shot up in surprise. Then he let out a deep belly laugh. 

"Ah yes dear lady, I have heard much about you. You abilities with both sword and healing arts are renowned. I am Lord Manderly." He reached a large hand toward her and she acquiesced her hand to him. He brought it to his lips and placed a tender kiss there. A gesture that stunned Eilonwy for a moment. 

"Your hands are calloused, my lady." he murmured, turning her hand over in his own. Seeming to marvel at the callouses he found there, tracing one extremely plump finger across them. 

"Many years of wielding bow and blade." Eilonwy stated, a little coolly. "As well has gathering herbs to mend broken bodies." She extracted her hand from his and set about her work of tended to wounds, changing dressings, administering salves and the like for healing. 

"I have heard great tales of your wielding." Continued the Lord, who had settled back into his seat by the fire. His eyes watching her like a hawk watches for prey. 

"Oh?" she replied, slathering a burn in her ointment and then loosely wrapping a clean, dry cloth around it. "Twice a day, change this dressing. Always clean cloth." The little kitchen maid nodded and scurried off. 

"Yes, the Wildings speak of you as a savior. Something about coming between them and a wall of White." Eilonwy sighed as she checked a man's dislocated shoulder that she had reduced yesterday. 

"Easy movements for the next five moons or I shall strap it to your side to make sure you don't move it." The man laughed in good nature and nodded. "Yes, I gave as many as I could the chance to escape at the Massacre of Hardhome." She replied simply, some of the wounded Wildings there got very dark looks. Many had lost loved ones there. 

"You did more than that, Eilonwy." Tormund's voice came from the door way. "You saved us." Lord Manderly eyed Tormund as a wolf might eye a wild cat that had invaded it's territory. Eilonwy said nothing as Tormund came in to the room to check on his people. 

"I also hear you brought our King back from Death." He said, his eyes once more latched on to Eilonwy. She could feel the weight of his look. 

"I did. It took many moon cycles to do so. But the strength is his. He wanted to come back." Eilonwy assured the Lord. 

"No doubt the fire of his line helped." Eilonwy's eyes snapped to Lord Manderly, who have a very cat like smile on his face. "Oh yes, I knew from the moment dearest Ned brought the boy back to Winterfell. Ned always was fiecrely loyal to Lady Catelyn. And I could clearly see young Lyanna in him as he grew, her ferocity. But we Manderly's are Stark men, always have been. Always will be." His smile that time was genuine when he spoke of Lyanna. 

"She was a hell of a woman." Came Howland's voice, filled with reverence. "Lord Manderly." He acknowledged. 

"Lord Reed." Manderly acknowledged in return, a brief nod between the two. 

"Have you also heard that is was Lady Eilonwy that rescued Rickon Stark? With the help of my daughter?" Howland offered, Eilonwy felt her cheeks turning a sharp red as they recounted all the tales of her exploits. 

"I did none of those things to be recognized, my Lords." She said sharply. "I did them for the North." Manderly looked at her then, for real. He saw her eyes shinning with the power that Jon had always seen. Her very presence radiated power. 

"I have no doubt, my Lady. There a a great many things I am sure you have given up for the North." Manderly stated, watching the pain flit through her eyes. It was a silent acknowledgement that she knew Jon would not be hers once the war was won. They both nodded to each other, mutual respect. Eilonwy finished her task in time for mid afternoon meal to be served. She helped those that could up so they could move out and she went to check Osha. Who was healing very well, she was talking with Tormund while Eilonwy changed her dressings. Eilonwy had just finished washing when she felt the large presence behind her. She turned to find Lord Manderly looking at her with something new shinning in his eyes. 

"I have no doubt that you would make a wonderful Queen." He said, his hands taking her in a lighting fast movement that should not have been possible for a man of his size. Eilonwy did her best to not lash out. She did not like people in her space. "Even now, I can see the fire burning inside of you. A light that many have followed, and many more probably would. But the Nobles are a petty lot. They see you only as a Wilding woman. Not the warrior and healer that you are."

"I am not." Eilonwy said, the Lord's brow drew down in confusion. "I am not a Wildling. I am Other." She gently drew her hands out of his and walked off to find food and Jon. Leaving Lord Manderly looking after her, stunned into silence. 

***  
Jon sat at the table, looking out over the Hall at the Nobles eating and talking merrily. He couldn't help but feel a spark of anger toward them. But then again, they had not served on the Wall. As Ser Davos that gently reminded him. They had not seen the slaughter of Hardhome, nor been betrayed and stabbed by their own brothers. Nor had they seen the miracle of Eilonwy's healing nor the ferocity of her blade. And politics would forever be like this, squabbling for position and more power. Jon felt it, more than saw, when Eilonwy entered the Hall. Silence suddenly descended when she swept through the doors, wearing a Lady's gown rather than her leathers. He had wondered what she would be wearing since Maddy had slipped into gather her leathers earlier this morning. 

On instinct, every man in the hall stood when she came in. Something that made her blush a deep shade of red as she moved up the isle to his side. He, himself was awestruck. He had never seen her in a gown before. Not with her hair half up, twisted the way it was now. The rest flowing freely, nearly to her waist. Her unusual amber eyes sparkled in the daylight that seeped through the windows silts. 

The gown was deep purple, with light grey trimmings. The sleeves were long and tied to be form fitting. Eilonwy had untied them to roll them up around her elbows to do her work this morning but one of the maids had stop her in the hall to retie them. The bodice was formfitting, showing her flared hips. It tied up the back but still allowed her freedom of movement. The top was cut in a soft square, revealing the smallest amount of her upper breast. The collar was high, nearly touching the bottom of her ears as it rounded her neck, which were all ornament free. The skirts were layered to keep her warm in the chill of the North, sweeping the ground. The tips of her boots would peak out of the hem line as she walked. As she neared, Jon could smell the usual healing herbs coming from her and the chill of winter that always seemed to cling to her. She gave him a little smile and slid gracefully into her seat. For a moment the room was silent and unmoving, until Lord Manderly cleared his throat and declared that he was famished. A nervous laugh rippled through the Lords and they sat down to continue eating. 

"You look lovely." Jon said, leaning over toward Eilonwy. She blushed again but replied her thank you. 

"It was the only thing I could find and I thought walking around the castle in just my skin would catch some eyes." She said, trying to make light of the tension growing in the room. 

"You caught them anyway." Ser Davos said from down the table. Eilonwy wasn't sure why, but she had a sick feeling in her stomach. She hadn't to draw attention to herself that way. This gown had truly been the only thing she could find. She could see many Lords casting glances her way. But Manderly, he smiled at her in an encouraging way. She wasn't sure how to feel. 

"Tonight is a war meeting." Jon told her. She nodded, looking into his eyes. "The Lords and the council will make the final plans for the coming Winter and to hold the North against Southern invasion." Eilonwy nodded, sure that more than that would be brought up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A warning my lovelies, the next chapter will take me a while to write. There are a lot of things to get right and plan. But in the mean time, you can feel free to comment or question and I will answer you as best as I can without spoiling too much. Enjoy!


	16. Of Plans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay lovelies, here is a set up chapter, a building if you will for the next to come. I must say that having to plan out this war is harder that I thought but I am slowly working it out and putting it together in my mind and soon after on the page. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Chapter XV

Candles burned brightly on every surface that would hold one. A large fabric map of Westeros had been spread out over the largest table. The Council had gathered as well as the Lords, Eilonwy more comfortably in her leathers stared down at the map. Multiple markers had been scattered all over. Fortifying the North looked like to was going to take a lot more men that they had previously planned on. Ser Davos, being of a piratey nature had pointed out a few places along the cost lines that were vulnerable and would require either fortification against invasion or a small force to defend the shores. 

"House Mormont did not come to the gathering, Jon. We must go there in person to meet with this Lady of Bear Island." Ser Davos said as the Lords gathered around the table to work out the numbers needed to both secure the North and protect Westeros from the coming Winter.

"Ah, yes." Jon smiled to himself as he remembered the letter that Stannis had shown him at Castle Black. 'Bear Island knows no King but the King in the North, whose name is Stark.' That letter had endured her to his heart long ago and he did long to meet the fiery ten year old himself. 

"We must finish the prep here before I can travel. I must know that Winterfell is left in good hands before we leave, lest the Greyjoy's attempt to sweep in and take it again." Manderly smiled at Jon, glad to know that Jon had learned from his cousin's mistake, it remained to be seen if he learned them all. Jon focused on the Map in front of him. Each token from the houses stood for 100 troops. 

"The best way to secure the North, is to take the Twins. From there we could easily secure the Riverlands." Lord Manderly pointed to the strong hold of House Frey with the turkey leg he was chewing on, claiming planning made him famished. "No large army can cross into the North without crossing over that damned bridge, if the Trident has overflowed its banks." Jon was rubbing his ever growing beard, deep in thought. All nodded their agreement. 

"True, but with Walder Frey and his men secure in the keeps, how can we take them?" Lord Whitehill said, he and his men had been first to pledge fealty to Jon after House Bolton had been slaughtered. The only confirmation that John had needed was the torn banner from the castle itself. He had ordered all the bodies to be piled and burned.

"I am open to any ideas." Jon said blatantly, for he had never seen the Twins. Lord Manderly rubbed his chin, a pensive look on his face. And Eilonwy could almost see the turning gears of his mind.

"There is only one real vulnerable place in keeps such as these." He picked up the small scale Eastern Keep and pointed with a thick finger. With close inspection, Eilonwy could see a small port in the outer wall. Her brow drew down in confusion.

"What is that?" She asked, looking up at Manderly. He smiled a devilish grin and Eilonwy could see the cunning many missed because of his size. 

"That my dear is a culvert or drain. It is an unsavory way to enter and only the smallest will do, but it is a way in." The table went silent. Eyes found her and she felt a shiver run up her spine. Jon stiffened as intentions became clear, his eyes narrowed.

"A small force could get in and lower the bridge, raise the gates." Howland agreed, Jon relaxed at Reed's mention of small force. Eilonwy crossed her arms, her eyes dancing over the map, looking for the best approach. 

"It will have to be a night assault." Eilonwy murmured, more to herself than to anyone else. But she could see the sly smile spreading across Manderly's face. 

"Yes, much like the retaking of Winterfell." Manderly mused."A force of 100 or 200 would easily be able to take a keep in one night."

"The hardest part would be stopping them from notifing the other keep of their fall. If Frey gets word from his eastern keep, he will no doubt call for aid from King's Landing." Eilonwy moved to stand beside the large but keen man. "The western keep is small and will be easier to take but crossing the bridge would spell the end of our siege. So how do we take the eastern keep?" Many scratched at their beards, gearing clearly turning in their heads. 

"We have many things that need to be accomplished and not a lot of time to do it. I put forth the suggestion that we run many different campaigns." said Lord Blackwood. "My son and heir, Brynden could go with Lady Eilonwy to the Twins, while you and your council travel to Bear Island." The Lord indicated to Jon. Jon felt himself bristle but a subtle shake of Eilonwy's head cooled his rising temper. Many of the Lord's were nodding their agreement, Howland placed his hand on Jon's shoulder.

"I will travel with Lady Eilonwy as well." He offered but Jon was already shaking his head. He didn't suspect the Lords of trying to rid themselves of Elionwy, she was too valuable to them right now. 

"No, though I thank you, Lord Reed. I need you here, with some of your garrison to secure Winterfell. Ser Tully and his men will travel with Eilonwy ... and Brynden Blackwood." Jon added the last name through gritted teeth. The tall, lean Blackwood simply nodded. His dark earth colored eyes traveled over to Eilonwy, who merely nodded in his direction. 

"Our biggest concern in securing this new North from Southerner invasion. Lady Lyanna will see reason." Lord Karstark said, bitterness still seeped in him for Robb's execution of the late Lord. But his house was out numbered in the North, so for the survival of his, he bent the knee to Jon. 

"As many have," Murmured Ser Tully. A flush of anger crossed Karstark's face but he said nothing. 

"I would supply half of the forces to take the Twins," insisted Lord Blackwood. "Surely some of Ser Tully's forces can be used to maintain the hold on Winterfell." Jon turn suspicious eyes on the man, who had ever been loyal to House Stark. But his insistance that his forces surrond Eilonwy and hold the Twins was making Jon doubt.

"Perhaps a mixture of all our house forces would be wise." Manderly input. "As we are still budding in our trust of each other." He said softly but there was no flare of indignation in anyone's eyes. Many of the houses present had sworn fealty to House Bolton rather than fight. But from what Jon had heard of the brutality of Ramsey, he could not fault them for bending the knee. And yet he could not bring himself to fully trust them. 

"Agreed, Lord Manderly." Howland added. "I offer 15 men to the taking of the Twins." Each house pledged a similar number. Ser Tully and Eilonwy only stood and listened. Eilonwy's mind was turning over the events and planning for the Twins. She had not seen them, in person. But she knew that taking the eastern tower, seat of House Frey, would prove to be very difficult. And Tully, well his heart burned for vengence against Frey who not only betrayed his oath but was responsible for the slaughter of many of his kins. And as far as he knew, Frey still held Edmure captive at Riverrun. 

"We will also need to set up a block of some kind along the Kingsroad, for when the Trident is not flooded. A large force can not travel the road unnoticed but assassins can." Stated Howland, not putting the prospect past the Lannisters.

"We can set up a sort of blockade before taking the Twins." Said Brynden, his voice a deeper rumble than his father's. "It would be a small detour but it would protect the North. A small force would have to be left behind as an early warning system." Many voices raised in agreement. Eilonwy merely nodded, the North would have to defend itself once the South figured out its own turmoil. Before the Targaryen conquest, the North had long been its own because the Southern armies could not cross the Neck with sustaining heavy casualties. 

"So be it," Jon said. "In three days time, we will leave on our separate missions. I will travel to Deepwood Motte with Ser Davos and a small group to meet with Lady Lyanna. Eilonwy, you and your force with travel to the Twins and Kingsroad to help secure our fledgling hold." The muscle in Jon's jaw worked furiously at the idea of having to separate from Eilonwy. They had been together for near a full turn, if Westeros had seasons, and he was just getting to have her as he wanted. But necessity dictated that they be apart and he had to do his part as King, for the good of the North. Eilonwy stood over the map, pouring over the details it showed her but Jon spent the moment memorizing the curve of her face, the line of her jaw and tracing her lips with his eyes. He had three days with her before they would be apart for a moon, maybe more. And all he wanted was her features burned into his memory.

Eilonwy could feel Jon's gaze on her face and she worked furiously to keep a blush from creeping up her face, for she could feel the scrutiny of all the other Lords present. Especially young Brynden, whose eyes drank in every detail about her. She could feel his gaze like a caress, following her braid, down the curve of her back, down her legs and up. With many warrior women of the Northern families, she failed to see how she was an anomaly to these Lords. Perhaps they had heard the same stories as Lord Manderly and were taking them to heart. She shifted uncomfortably. 

"They are simply curious, my lady. Like a pack of dogs sniffing at a wolf." His voice was soft beside her, she hadn't missed the glances that the Lords had been sending her way throughout the meeting. She also had no doubt that Lord Blackwood's intentions were similar, sending his son as both spy and assistance. Eilonwy was not blind to their curiosity, it just made her increasingly uncomfortable. At least in the far North, there was so much space that she had not had to deal with other people very often. Eilonwy knew that many, if not all the houses, were still and had always been loyal to the Stark's, bending the knee to Bolton only to ensure their own survival. Not even the Stark's could fault them for that, for Sansa herself had been married twice in the name of survival. 

"I care only for Jon and the survival of the North." she replied softly, though her motivations were much more complex. But it did not escape Manderly, his mind was as sharp as he was round. 

"Of course," was all he said. Yet the cunning gleam never left his eyes. Many noticed her affect on not only Jon but anyone who she had fought with, then tended. To many, she was a threat because if given free choice, Jon would marry her and make her Queen in the North. An honour all Northern families believed their daughters should have before a Wildling.

"How many days to reach our destinations?" Eilonwy's voice rang clear as a bell, breaking the stretching silence. 

"Four days, as light riders." Brynden informed her. "To remain unseen, five maybe six with scouts ahead of us." She nodded, feeling his onyx stare on her face as she looked unflinching into his eyes until his bowed his head and looked away. She nodded, looking at the distance she would need to cover with a force large enough to attack and maintain the Twins.

"We will need a supply of cold foods and dried meats, we can not afford to have fires that could alert Frey to our advance." She said, looking toward a maid coming in with more candles. The young maid simply bowed her head, relaying the message to the cooks. Jon could feel the worry and fear growing in his belly. He had seen her face down a wall of White Walkers, she had brought him back from the brink, and she had saved countless lives but he could not shake the feeling that he was going to loose her. Not like they had talked about, the fact that she could not be his wife or that once his throne was secure she would leave. Her soft ale colored eyes looked up at him, pinpricks of light reflecting from the candles. He thought, not for the first time, that she looked like a dream. Her soft brown hair braided and resting over her shoulder, little hairs that wouldn't stay in a braid floated around her face in the soft breeze that always seem to be present in the castle. Her skin a pale rose from the heat, her cheeks flushed and chest expanding deeply with each breath. Though Jon knew it would never come to pass, he often dreamed of her belly rounded by his child growing deep within her, a shared smile always on her face. A small curly haired child at each hip as she toddled through the grounds, refusing to stay still even as labour pains stole her breath. He could easily hear her voice weaving the tales of the old worlds as their babes slip off to sleep filled with dragons and wild things and Old Gods of the past. A soft smile slipped across his lips at the wish, if only Rickon wanted to be King. But he didn't. Jon sighed deeply, rubbing at his tired eyes, realizing that the night had grown and the moon was high over head. 

"My Lords, may I suggest that we retire for the evening. A good nights rest and a full belly tomorrow will help us all." Jon noticed many drooping eyes through the hall, and many thankful nods as the Lords began to file out. Just Manderly, Reed, Tully, Eilonwy, Tormund, and himself remained in a few moments. Jon looked at the portly Lord and knew, beyond a shadow that his wife would be of Manderly's line. The Lord in front of him held great power and sway over all the others. Manderly smiled kindly as if he could read the thoughts in Jon's mind. 

"I meant what I said earlier, Majesty." Manderly said, using Jon's title. "The time for talk of marriage can wait until we are safe." With a tender hand on Eilonwy's shoulder, Manderly turned and waddled off toward his room. 

"That man is as cunning as a spider, waving a web." commented Tormund, with nods in agreement from all. 

"Aye, but he holds a fair amount of power in the North." supplied Tully. 

"I will stay here, Jon. Only because you asked it of me and fortify Winterfell. My captain will return to Greywater with Manderly's plans and begin the prep there." Howland clapped Jon on the shoulder and made his way out, followed by Tormund and Tully. Eilonwy hadn't moved her eyes from the parchment that held the map of Westeros, thought hse no longer saw it. She felt the weight of the coming weeks already beginning to descend on her. The knowledge that she would have to watch her every move, every step made her wary. Jon moved closer to her, running his hand down her arms, kissing her on the back of her neck. She took a deep breath and slowly let it out as Jon's arms circled her waist, pulling her tightly against him. 

"Please, Eilonwy." He began, she allowed him to turn her so that they were face to face. "Do not let this drive us apart. We have such a short time together, do not let them and their plans draw us apart." She unfolded her arms and wrapped them around him. One resting on his hip, the other tracing circles between his shoulder blades. 

"Take Sansa and Rickon to Deepwood Motte with you. Lyanna needs to see that there are Stark's at Winterfell again." She said instead of what her heart wanted to say. Three words that could undo everything. Jon, sighed but nodded, accepting her diversion. 

"I am a Stark," he murmured defiantly. 

"Your mother was a Stark, your father was a Targaryen. Men honor their father's houses first, Jon." Eilonwy warned. "She may not be willing to recognize you as King." Jon shook his head, but allowed Eilonwy her distractions. 

"I will keep that in mind, Eilonwy." he said, knowing it would sate her. "You must be careful too." He went on to say. She looked up at him, his fear and worry for her shinning in his eyes. Her smile was soft and reassuring. 

"It is not time, Jon. I will return." Even though her words gave him comfort, he could not shake the feeling that she was not going to be with him much longer. So instead of saying what his heart feared, he pulled he closer and kissed her with all the fear and emotions he felt. 

Eilonwy clung to Jon as he kissed her senseless, leaving her mind blurred and senses dulled. Until she could feel only him. She could see the future slowly forming in her mind's eye, as she had worked tirelessly toward but a few things still needed to be in place. So for now, she held onto Jon with all the strength she could because now was all they really had.


	17. Of Good-byes

Chapter XVI

Three days passed like the blink of an eye. Jon and Eilonwy spent most of their days with the Lords and council, finalizing the plans to fortify the North. Lord Manderly, who had gotten permission from Bran before Theon invaded, to build a better fleet had been hard at work, with seemingly unlimited resources. Fifty five ship had been prepared and were awaiting orders in White Harbor.

"Each ship can carry and hold near a legion of troops." Proclaimed Manderly over mid meal on the first day after the decision. It was agreed that the majority of the fleet would remain in the Bite, around the Three Sister's and Widow's Watch. But small forces would be dispatched to Bear Island, if Lady Lyanna bent the knee and joined the rest of the North. Another to the Cape of Eagles to both defend against the Iron Islands and to protect the Twins, from invading forces. And more to Blazewater Bay and the Bay of Seals. Jon and the Lords agreed that a small force could retake residents at Flint's Finger with permission from Lady Lyessa Flint of the Widow's Watch. She warned that the castle had been run down and would require some work to be inhabitable again. Her own son was slain at the Red Wedding, so she harbored no good feelings for the South or any supporters. Her thirst for vengeance matched many of the Northern families that had been wronged by Bolton, Frey, and the South. She also agreed to harbor three ships from Manderly's fleet at Widow's Watch. Umber, too, had stepped up, offering to foster the crews of the ships to be harbored in the Bay of Seals. All that was left was a visit to Deepwood Motte and the taking of the Twins. 

That afternoon a letter arrived from the Vale, where Lord Petyr Baelish waited. Sansa had confided to them in the early morning hours that Lord Baelish had contacted her once he heard that they had retaken Winterfell and that the Northern families were gathering. He wanted to offer his deepest regrets at her treatment at the hands of her deceased husband, Ramsey Bolton and the service of the Knights of the Vale and the fealty of House Arryn. Young Robin had assumed the mantle there and Petyr had his ear. Sansa was not keen on accepting Baelish's help because it was by his crafting that she ended up in the hands of Ramsey in the first place. 

"He is cunning, Jon." Sansa warned them as Brienne stood behind her, her face in a deep frown. "He sees five moves in front of every game he plays. And all he wants is power. Any power will do. He cares not for who he hurts, only that he continues his accession." She cautioned. But the Knights of the Vale were in a perfect position to assist with the taking and keeping the Riverlands. Jon nodded and enlisted both Sansa and Eilonwy in writing to Baelish, asking for assistance in taking the Twins. Jon left the details of how the North was going to take the Western keep or when, and implied that both Baelish's loyality and that of House Arryn would be assured if they were able to secure the Eastern keep, as well as the capture of the traitor Walder Frey and his family. Eilonwy wrote the letter in her soft hand, while Sansa and Jon debated the wording. 

Eilonwy could see the plan forming in Jon's head. Ser Tully informed them that Edmure Tully was still alive, held prisoner in their own seat of Riverrun by Frey and the Lannister force left there. Edmure had married Roslin Frey at the Red Wedding and murmurs said that she was pregnant, carrying the Tully heir and if all Frey's were imprisoned for treason, that child would be twice blessed with the lands and riches of house Frey as well. 

There in lay their bargaining chip with Baelish. With the Tully family restored to their seat of power at Riverrun, someone would need to assume control of the Twins. Baelish would be a Lord of his own house, amassing his own fortune but his loyalty would be to the North,as he would be surrounded and vulnerable to attack from all sides if he was to decided that the Twins was not enough power for him. But Jon would not introduce this bargaining chip until the time was right. Eilonwy had to admit, it was brilliant. 

They continued to make plans to fortify the North by both land and sea as they awaited Lord Baelish's response. Which came the next day, in which Baelish requested a meeting with King in the North Jon Targaryen-Stark, Lady Sansa of Winterfell and the elusive Lady Eilonwy of the North. Eilonwy felt her sense bristle at the mention of her name, it wasn't as if they had gone to great pains to hide her presence, but for Baelish to have heard of her in the Fingers ... it was disconcerting. Especially the way he had referred to her. Eilonwy of the North. Jon frowned, re-reading the letter a few times while he tried to work out the meaning. Even Manderly seemed perplexed, who had been asked by Jon to join the council. After Eilonwy convinced him of not only the compliment it would pay the elder Lord but that they council would benefit from his cunning. So it was with his council that Jon now sat with the letter from Baelish. 

"So he is requesting a meeting?" Ser Tully asked again. Eilonwy sighed and crossed her arms. 

"It seems more than that." Sansa said, her face a little pale. Eilonwy had not wanted her to be up and moving so soon but being the Lady of Winterfell had its demands. Baelish's unhealthy obsession with Catlyn Stark had transferred to Sansa, and she knew it. There was a part of her that had hoped that she could use it to manipulate the situation in their favor. The Vale had thus remained neutral in the War of the Seven Kingdoms but if the Lannister's offered him something better, he could be in a perfect position to invade the Riverlands and weaken the Northern control and stability. 

"We have no choice Jon. We must meet with him." Sansa stated from her delicate perch in her chair at the council table. 

"I hate to admit it and play into this Baelish's hands, but I do believe that young Lady Sansa is right." Howland said, scratching at his beard. 

"It will put our time line in peril." Jon murmured, his eyes grazing over the letter one more time. Baelish had requested that they meet at a small unnamed inn along the Kingsroad between Moat Cailin and Greywater Watch. 

"No, we march as planned. I will peel off from the main contingent and meet you at this inn while Ser Tully takes the force the rest of the way to the Western keep. I will rendezvous with them in the small patch of woods here." Eilonwy laid her finger on the tip of a large wooded area just above a hill beside the keep. "We can not jeopardize our time line because of Baelish's crafting. But likewise we can not risk his moving against us in support of the Lannister's should they discover our plans." Eilonwy finished, all were nodding in agreement. Manderly had a broad smile on his face. 

"Alright," Jon conceded. Eilonwy would leave tomorrow and being the march down to the Twins. He and Sansa, would be escorted by Brienne, Davos, and Tormund to the inn, after which they would ride to Deepwood Motte. Eilonwy would meet them in three days after peeling off from the main force. Jon didn't like the idea of her traveling alone but he kept his mouth shut. Eilonwy wrote the reply to Baelish and sent it off with a raven before nightfall. 

That night as Jon traced lazy circles on the bare skin of her stomach, she mused about how far things had come for Jon. She twisted a strand of his hair between her fingers, the silky treads tickling her palm as his growing bread tickled her skin. Jon's jaw moved, as if he were quietly singing something to himself. his jaw moving along her ribs caused her to giggle softly. Jon stopped and looked up at her, resting his chin at the tip of her lower rib cage. 

"That tickles, Jon." she answered the question in his eyes. He smiled at her and resumed the tracing of designs on her increasingly sensitive skin. "What are you humming?" she asked, twisting the strand of hair around her fingers. 

"I'm not sure," he began. "It is just a melody that I remember hearing a long time ago." Eilonwy nodded though he couldn't see her. 

"It sounds like a lullaby." She mused, his fingers drawing ever downward. He paused again and seemed to think before continuing.

"Maybe it is a hope I have," he said very softly. Eilonwy felt her heart clench, she held the same wish in her heart. 

"Now is not the time ..." Eilonwy began, suddenly Jon was on top of her, his face in hers. He moved so fast that she had not seen it. 

"I know, Eilonwy." He cut her off. "I know little curled hair babes are not a wise idea now, with Death coming to devour all life. But I have this wish in my heart that I carry everyday, to see you with a parcel of brats trailing after you. Your belly swollen with another of my children." Eilonwy said nothing, she only let the strength and heat from Jon's body comfort her. She let the images wash through her mind and over her heart. A small boy and girl, twins racing around her as she toddled around the courtyard, her belly swollen to near painful portions. Laying on her side, with the twins playing with Ghost as Jon massaged her aching feet at the end of the day. Eilonwy let out a contented sigh as the vision gave way to reality. Eilonwy opened her eyes to find Jon staring at her with such intensity. 

"I don't want you to go." He said suddenly, gripped her head in both of his hands. His fingers massaging her scalp. She smiled sadly at him. 

"I know, Jon." She said, not wanting to leave. This mission was going to be dangerous, yet survivable, but Eilonwy couldn't shake the feeling that meeting with Baelish would be just as dangerous. "But we must."

"For the North." He said.

"For the North." She echoed. 

***  
The dawn came too soon for either of their liking. Eilonwy's bags had been packed the night before, to allow them a little bit more time together before she had to leave with her contingent. Jon held her firmly in his arms as the first rays of morning broke through the advancing clouds. Eilonwy felt sweat beading on her forehead as Jon made love to her furiously for the uncounted time. She let out a soft cry as her finish took her and he grunted against her skin as he joined her. He collapsed against her body, breathing heavily. 

"I think we are going to regret getting no sleep." She murmured to him. He grunted again in response, withdrawing from her embrace to wash. Eilonwy stepped into the tub and washed off with the cool buckets of water. She needed to be the first to be prepared to leave. She knew that many challenges awaited her on this journey. Reed and Tully's men had seen her fight and knew what she was capable of. But the men that the other houses had volunteered for this mission didn't know her and would surely test her, until she bested the biggest of them. Eilonwy quickly dressed in her traveling clothes, carefully packing a traveling gown for their meeting with Baelish and the leathers for battle. Her weapons would be stored on her person or on her saddle within reach. When they were both dressed, they looked at each other from across the room. The sunlight poured in over Jon's shoulders, giving the illusion of him being aflame. Blonde and red low lights in his hair seem much more pronounced as the sun gently warmed the room. His eye took on a violet under tone as he looked longingly at her.

"I know you have great skills in battle and craft. But ..." Jon stopped short, looking desperately at Eilonwy, her eyes golden in the morning rays. She smiled softly at him, a smile that was only for him. A smile that warmed him through and through. 

"But?" she prompted, noticing the indecision on his face. He couldn't look away from her, the sun slowly illuminating everything about her he loved. He multi colored eyes that sparkled, her soft brown hair that held streaks of red when the sun lit it up. Her traveling gear hid her lush curves, but Jon knew them well enough to see them in his minds eye. 

"But return to me. Please." He finished, putting simple words to his complex feelings. She held out her hand from him, his hot fingers intertwining with her cooler ones. 

"I will come back to you Jon." She said, squeezing his hand. He nodded and pulled her into his arms for one last scorching kiss. 

***  
Eilonwy swung her leg over the saddle of her horse, mounting the dark mare with ease. She watched with keen eyes as the remaining of her troops did the same. Ser Tully gave her a grizzled look but said nothing. He would be her support in this and though the Tully's had strong women, she knew he wasn't entirely sure about her position as leader. She took in a deep breath and sighed. This journey was going to be long and painful for some because Jon had put her in command. Eilonwy knew that she would be challenged and was prepared for it. Yet it didn't ease the ache in her bones at having to play this political game. With so much at stake, position meant so little. 

Brynden Blackwood pulled his stead up next to her. He looked handsome in his traveling gear. His black as night hair brushed the tops of his ears and his piercing blue eyes, a tribute to his mother, were assessing. He wore black gear with a scarlet patch over his heart the bore the image of his line. His leather riding gloves looked well use and worn. His weapons were positioned much like hers. 

"You look like you are preparing for a insurrection." His voice was deep rumble from his chest. Eilonwy cast him a side long glance, trying to read his comment.

"I am." She decided to say, watching his reaction. To her surprise, he smiled at her. The edges of his eyes crinkling from years of good, hearty laughter. She blinked in befuddlement. 

"A wise woman, I see." He said no more, just watched her. She cast on last look at Jon, who stood on the wall above the main gate. For she dared not look back once her journey began. He body was stiff against the chilled breeze, his hand resting on Longclaw. She nodded to him and he to her, then she spurred her mare into action, followed by Brynden, Tully, and their men.

Jon watched as Eilonwy rode away from the safety of Winterfell in the company of some who would wish her harm or worse. Jon felt Ser Davos' hand on his shoulder, a reassuring warmth as she and her troops became nothing but specks on the horizons. 

"Come," Jon finally said. "We have preparations to see to."


	18. Of Lord Baelish

Chapter XVII

The pace Eilonwy set was what many would call punishing. She wanted to reach the Barrowlands before nightfall. She also hoped that many would be too weary to argue with her once night did come. Even her body would ache by the time they made camp. 

Brynden kept pace with her the whole time, being a skilled horseman, like many in the North. He never tried to make conversation, nor challenge her pace. He simply watched her, which Eilonwy wasn't sure she liked. Out right, she could handle and shut down, but this waiting for him to make up his mind about her was going to drive her crazy. 

As the sun dipped behind the horizon, she pulled her mare to a stop. The beast heaving beneath her. She turned to see all the riders doing the same. She dismounted and bit back a groan as her feet landed roughly. She watched as many of the troops landed with wobbling legs but fought to stay up right. None voiced complaints. 

"Feed and water your horses." Her voice was strong and commanding. "Eat and recover, for tomorrow we begin at first light. No fires. Eat the dried stores you were each given. We can feast in the halls of the keep." She got a small cheer from them at that before they disbanded. She guided her own mare to a spring that was close by. Removing her bridle to allow her to drink freely. Eilonwy pulled off her saddle and pulled a course brush from one of her packs. She gently brushed down Illas' coat, splashing the occasional cold water on the mare's back. Eilonwy took out a slave of her own design, and began to massage the mare's hind quarters and legs while the beast happily grazed. 

Illas' huffed and shook her head as Eilonwy rubbed her neck and brushed out her hair, re-braiding it as she finished. Eilonwy hummed softly to the beast, who rested her head against Eilonwy's stomach. Eilonwy smiled to herself, hoping the beast would be ready for another hard push in the morning. 

"You have a way with many things, I see." came Brynden deep voice. Eilonwy turned swiftly to find him leaning against a stone at the edge of the clearing she was in. 

"So some might say." She turned back to Illas, rubbing her nose affectionately. Eilonwy pulled a small apple from her pack and feed it to Illas before replacing her bridle. Brynden stood behind her, just doing what he had been the whole time. Eilonwy could feel the weight of his stare on her back. Once Illas' was briddled again, Eilonwy turned to Brynden and held her hands out to her side. 

"What is it you want, Lord Blackwood?" She asked, but his body posture said nothing of a threat. 

"I am curious, Lady Eilonwy." He answered, still not moving from where he leaned. 

"About what?" she pushed. 

"How a wildling, such as yourself, is so skilled in so many trades." He responded. Eilonwy sensed a dance had begun between the two of them. 

"One learns and masters many things in the far North." She answered evasively. His eye brow raising was the only response to her answer. 

"I am sure." He pushed off the stone and slowly moved toward her. Eilonwy felt her body tense in anticipation, but for what she was not sure. He leisurely drew his sword and continued to walk toward her. Eilonwy rested her hand on the hilt of her own but did not draw. She was not sure what he was trying to prove. 

"We have all heard the stories, Lady Eilonwy." He started, Eilonwy could feel many eyes watching them. She raised an eyebrow, watching his precise movements. He walked in an almost lazy fashion, meant to disarm his opponent. 

"I have heard the your skill with a blade is near unmatched." He continued, stopped nearly face to face with her. In a lighten quick movement he had swung his blade at her. In a move even faster than his, her blade had blocked his. The ringing of their blades shot out into the night. The moon light glinted off their blades, shinning like stars in her eyes. Brynden nodded once and swung again. Eilonwy easily dodged and blocked his movement with a swift swing of her own. Their swords met with such force that his arms sang with the vibrations. Eilonwy continued with the defensive moves, allowing the young Lord to test out her skills. To embarrass him too early would mean making an enemy, something she couldn't afford to do this early into their mission. Brynden Blackwood could help or doom this journey with a few simple words. Once she saw sweat beading on his forehead, and a look of frustration cross his face, she swiftly disarmed him. Bringing the match to an end and holding his sword against his chest. Brynden looked down in bafflement as his own sword lightly touched his chest and her blade rested against his neck. He held his hands up in surrender. 

"Is that a satisfying answer for all?" Her voice rang out and she turned to see all the eyes watching them. Ser Tully leaned against a tree with a smile splitting his face. The old fish had probably put the young Lord up to it in the first place. She glanced around and saw a few sheepish looks. 

"Is that enough?" She asked again. "We are on a mission to secure the North and can not afford distractions or discontent. We must work as one unit. Trusting each other. Yes, I am from far beyond the wall. But my heart belongs to the North, wildling or not." Brynden bowed to her as she handed him back his sword. "I will do this every night, with everyone of you if I must to prove myself, but we do not need injuries to slow our progress or our purpose." 

"Agreed." was all he said as he sheathed his sword and walked over to his bed of furs. And with that, their troop bedded down for the cold night, to rise again in the morning.

***  
Jon stared out of the window at the building storm. Snow was beginning to fall, ever so lightly. He could feel the building battle in his bones and regretted that to North could not see the impending doom that loomed over them. All they seemed to care for was position and power. 

"Winter has come." Sansa's soft voice whispered behind him. She walked forward and took his hand. He turned to her and could only nod.

"I fear the Seven Kingdoms do not know what will follow. Only I and the Wildlings have seen the true horror." Jon said, watching Ghost prowl the grounds, looking for a stray rabbit or three. 

"The Walkers are just legends to them Jon, legends their caretakers told them because they had heard it. Summer was nearly 10 years long and the fear of Walkers passed because many that now rule only heard about them in the form of nightmarish tales." Sansa went on. Rickon could be seen walking aimlessly through the grounds. Brienne had yet to start their training because of the impending journey to the nameless inn and Baelish. 

"But with the return of Winter, the threat comes back." Jon insisted. 

"They are doing what they think is best for the North. Many have volunteered men to stay and fight while they secure the borders of the North. Those men are placing their trust in you, Jon. Once we return from Deepwood Motte, you must begin instructing them if we are expected to survive." Jon nodded, briefly wondering when Sansa had become a young woman, and so wise. 

"We will have to be off in the morning to make the meet with Lord Baelish." Jon observed, Sansa stiffened but nodded. A knock on the door distracted both of them. 

"The Lords have gathered and are waiting for you, Lord Stark." Came voice through the door. Jon sighed heavily and Sansa squeezed his hand encouragingly. 

"Come, let us do our duty." Jon said, leading Sansa to the great hall. 

***  
The next day and night passed without incident, mostly because of Brynden's display on the first night. Eilonwy had begun to suspect that he was actually on her side and had challenged her so no one else would. Rumors floated through the camp that the Blackwood's were renowned sword smiths throughout the Seven Kingdoms. Perhaps both he and Ser Tully had designed the night's ... entertainment to quell any rising doubts about her abilities. They reached the spot that Eilonwy would split off to meet with Jon, Sansa, Rickon, and Baelish.

"You seem uneasy, Lady." Brynden observed as she looked off into the direction she had to go. "I swear we will not take the keep without you." He added somewhat playfully, Eilonwy looked at him but there was a distance in her eyes. 

"I am not uneasy about our mission." She said confidently. "It is this Lord Baelish that has me concerned." She wasn't sure why she was being honest with Brynden but it was happening anyway. Brynden looked thoughtful as his gaze followed the road she was to travel alone, his own face becoming uneasy. 

"I have heard many things about Lord Baelish. Some of them less than savory. You know he once owned a brothel in King's Landing?" Eilonwy nodded, she had gleaned some information about Baelish but his intentions were still unknown. And unknown didn't bode well for them. He could help or hurt their campaign in ways she was sure not even she had thought of.

"This meeting does not sit well with me, Lord Brynden." She said honestly, as she turned her mare toward the road. Brynden turned toward her with concern in his eyes, he reached out to cover her hand with his.

"Please my Lady, let one of the men escourt you." Brynden pleaded but Eilonwy was shaking her head and his hand off hers. 

"We are ahead of schedule, my Lord. I can travel faster alone and have time to scout the area for trouble. Lord Baelish does not know me, but if I ride with a Northern escort he will." Eilonwy explained. Brynden looked at her with the same worry that Jon did. 

"Brynden," he finally said. Eilonwy raised a delicate brow at him. "Please call me Brynden." he amended. Eilonwy smiled at him, truly smile and it warmed his soul. 

"Eilonwy." She returned, extending her hand to his. He gripped her hand with strength but was surprisingly gentle. "I will see you in the hills above the keep." She didn't wait for a response before withdrawing her hand and spurring her mare forward toward the inn. 

***  
Jon and Sansa rode with their small contingent toward the inn that Baelish chose, Jon felt the small hairs of his body rise as the inn came into view. He suspected a trap, to be honest but Sansa assured him that Baelish would not harm them. So long as he thought he had a chance to marry Sansa. She was sure that was what this was about. And asking for land and title. 

Jon pulled the company to a halt as they neared the edge of the forest, the inn in plain view. It sat in a small but very open valley that could be attacked from any side, slaughtering all within. He let out a deep sigh as his eyes searched the edge of the woods for any sign of an attack. 

"Jon," Sansa whispered, pointing toward the inn. A lone figure stood in the door way, wearing a deep blue traveling gown. The female figure was looking in their direction intently. Jon felt his heart stop as he recongized the lines and curves of Eilonwy's body. If she was already there, then they were safe. Jon spurred his horse forward, feeling such elation at seeing her unharmed. Jon dismounted as they neared her and rushed to take her in his arms but Eilonwy held up her hand and the stern look on her face gave him pause. 

"Lord Baelish has eyes everywhere Jon, we must not give him any sign that he can use us as pawns against one another." The saddness in her eyes at not being able to accept his embrace gave Jon some comfort, he gave her a stiff nod. He instead offered Sansa his arm, which she took and they walked in together, followed by Brienne, Tormund, and then Rickon with Eilonwy on his arm. The guard stayed outside to watch for signs of trouble. 

As the group entered, Lord Baelish stood, recognizing Sansa instantly. But what threw Jon was that Baelish was alone at the table. No guards nor Lord Arryn. Jon and Sansa stopped at the edge of the table, Baelish gave a curt nod to Jon and took Sansa's hand, placing a tender kiss on it. 

"Lord Jon, Lady Sansa." He greeted. His eyes traveled over Brienne and Tormund. "Lady Brienne of Tarth! It has been a long time." Brienne bristled, remembering the last time they had been together in a similar place. Baelish had convinced Sansa to stay with him, instead of going with Brienne. Which resulted in her being married to Ramsey and the following months of torture. Baelish looked Tormund up and down but said nothing. He looked past to Rickon and Eilonwy. 

"Young Lord Rickon! The last I saw you, you were barely to my waist in height, now look at you. Towering like your father did." Rickon only gave a curt nod to acknowledge Baelish. Then his eyes latched on to Eilonwy, his grey-green eyes searching every feature he could, down to her toes. Eilonwy felt the small hairs on her body stand up, a warning of him. He held his hand out for her and she looked at him for a moment before slipping her hand into his. He pulled gently, she acquiesced a few steps forward. He smelled of mint and something else that Eilonwy couldn't place. His close cut hair was dark with streams of silver running through at his temples, his strong, blunt jaw was dusted with a graying beard, the middle scuplted to a sharp point. He was taller than she had expected but lean like a willow. 

"You must be Lady Eilonwy." he said, his voice sickly sweet.

"Lord Baelish," Eilonwy acknowledged his with a short curtsy. His smile never quite reached his eyes, which were cold and calculating. He placed a soft kiss on her knuckles.

"I must say, from the rumors I have heard, you don't look as fearsome as I imagined." He said as he released her hand and motioned for them to sit. Sansa slid in followed by Jon, Rickon declined and chose to stand with Brienne and Tormund, so that left the seat next to Baelish open. Eilonwy groaned internatlly but sat down to spare Sansa. 

"I assure you, Lord Baelish, I am quite fearsome if the occasion calls for it." She said sweetly, flashing him a sharp grin. Jon bit back a smile as Baelish's eyes bulged. But Baelish recovered quickly. 

"I shall take it as a compliment that you do not see this as such an occasion." Baelish sat next to her. 

"Why are we here, Lord Baelish?" Jon asked, not wanting the small talk anymore. Baelish smiled a snake's smile and chills broke out across Eilonwy's skin. This was a dangerous man. 

"I wanted to respond to your request, my Lord Targaryen-Stark. Or is it Stark-Targaryen?" Baelish flashed Jon a cold smile. "The good Lord Arryn has named me his Warden of the East, until the time that he comes of age. I want to know the extent that we will be risking our knights to take the keep from Frey and why should we involve ourselves when we have thus far remained neurtal." He responded bluntly. Jon felt a little pit form in his stomach. If Baelish was already Warden of the East, why would he take their token of the Twins?

"Because neutrality can only keep you safe for so long, Lord Baelish. As I am sure you have seen in King's Landing. Neutrality while the kingdoms war around you will leave you with nothing but piles of ash and corpses." Eilonwy said matter of factly. Baelish turned to her, his eyes keen as he looked deep into her eyes. 

"And what will we receive in return for our assistance to the North?" He asked. 

"What is it you want, Lord Baelish?" Sansa asked, very quietly. Baelish turned toward her, his eye gleaming. 

"I thought you would know, my Lady." He replied. Sansa frowned and looked down at her hands. It Jon only a moment to desipher Baelish's meaning. Jon face went stone cold as his eyes locked on Baelish.

"I will not force Sansa into another marriage that she does not want. I am King in the North and Winterfell is my seat of power. Sansa will marry when and if she chooses." Jon stated, his voice cold as the steel by his side. Sansa looked up at him, clearly startled, as was Baelish. Eilonwy felt a little thrill that they had caught Baelish off guard. 

"But you are not officially King in the North, yet." Baelish's voice was chilled. Rickon let out a growl, but Brienne's firm hand stilled him. 

"Be careful Lord Baelish. He may not have been coronated but the North recognizes him. It would be an unwise move to threaten our King." Brienne's voice was soft but there was no missing the threat. 

"We are prepared to offer you land and title for your loyality and service to the Northern crown." Jon went on. Baelish perked up at that.

"Oh?" he said. "What title and lands?" He bpoyish gleam in his eyes was unmistakable!e. Sansa k ew that he was looking for a foot hold of his own. Young Lord Arryn would come of age in a year and Baelish could not get away with a second murder in the Eerie. 

"Once the Twins are taken and Riverrun re-taken, a new Lord must be installed into the Twins." Jon began, he had not planned on leading with this bargin but Baelish's proposal to marry Sansa had given him no choice. "You would own the lands and amass the fortunes that the Twins provide. Most of the forutnes there now will be used to repair and guard the Twins against any other invasion, as well as paying the dowry of Roslin Frey, which was denied to her husband Edmure Tully through treachery. What is left would be yours to do with as you please, so long as it is in the best nature for the North." Baelish sat back in his chair, his hand scratching his beard, his eyes slid to Eilonwy.

"I hear you sit on our King's council, Lady of the North." Eilonwy saw Jon bristle at Baelish's attention to her. Eilonwy simply nodded and met Baelish's near feverish glance. "What would you recommend, then dear Lady." Eilonwy turned full toward him, her hands settling neatly in her lap as she looked deep into Baelish's eyes. She could see so much there. His sickly childhood and disappointing adolescent life. His drive to be more and more powerful. His cunning and craft that had kept him alive. She took a deep breath before answering. 

"I think that Frey would open his gates to you, a Lord in high stand, for the prospect of marrying off one of his many granddaughters. And when we take the twins, that marriage will give you undeniable claim to the seat of the Twins. I think the mocking bird of your house would look handsome above the keep walls. I advice to take the deal, Lord Baelish's, for I very much doubt Lady Cersi will have a better offer for you." She watched his reactions very carefully, his mouth never moved but his eyes grew slightly wider at the mention of Cersi. All where aware of what was happening in King's Landing. Cersi's madness was growing more and more public, the Faith Militant had taken the Queen Margaery and her brother Lord and Heir to Highgarden captive for their "sins", surely Barelish knew he did not stand a chance in the South if the Faith could take royals without consequence. And even if Cersi managed to deal with the beast she unleashed on King's Landing, how would he be received? He had been married to Lady Lysa Arryn to bring the Knights of the Vale into the fold of the Lannister rein. 

"The North protects its own, Lord Baelish." Jon said softly, catching Eilonwy's tone. Baelish looked back and forth between Jon and Eilonwy. He made a soft sound of acceptance. 

"It seems, for once, I have been out played." He murmured, his eyes settling on Eilonwy. "You are a singular woman, Lady Eilonwy." He gently took her hand in his, his thumb tracing over her knuckles.

"It seems a shame to waste such talent." He said, it was his last effort to get a roise out of Jon. Sansa gripped his hands under the table. "Perhaps I should request to marry you." Eilonwy saw Jon's furious nature rising in his eyes. 

"My Lord Baelish, I am surely considered far below a low born, being a Wildling. Not marriage material for a Lord such as yourself." She gently placed her hand on top of his, smiling coldly. Tormund looked like he might choke on his own tongue but Brienne reached out to squeeze his hand. Eilonwy marvelled for a moment that they tension between them had eased. 

"But are you?" Baelish asked softly and for a moment, Eilonwy's heart stopped. "Very well, I consent. I will help you King Jon Targaryen-Stark, secure the North in exchange for my choice in a Frey wife and Lordship of the Twins. And your vow to protect me from the Faith Militant, should they come looking for me." He released Eilonwy's hand and reached out for Jon's. Jon stood slowly and took Baelish's hand, shaking it firmly. 

"Be at the Western Keep in two days. I am sure you have a sufficient amount of Knights near to take control of the Keep." Jon said, holding his arm out for Sansa, who stood gracefully and took his arm. Baelish only smiled at them. "Inform Lord Arryn I will be by to see him within the next moon." Baelish nodded curtly and rose, disappointment in his eyes. He had power and Lordship that would not be questioned once he was married but it was no who he had wanted. Eilonwy stood quietly and moved to step around Lord Baelish but his hand on her arm gave her pause. Jon's back was turned, so he didn't see Baelish lean close to Eilonwy's ear.

"You, Lady of the North, have out played me at a game I have owned for years." He pulled back just enough, his lips hoovering over hers. "I would like to know more about you." Eilonwy felt a cold finger trace up her spine as Baelish placed a soft kiss on each of her cheeks. He stepped back and Rickon held out his arm for her. The question was clear in his eyes, but she gave a slight shake of her head. She took Rickon's arm and they walked out the door, followed by Brienne and Tormund, who shot Baelish a very nasty look on the way out. Baelish in turn only smiled and raised a goblet toward him. 

Eilonwy felt like she couldn't properly breathe until they were outside and away from the calculating eyes of Baelish. Eilonwy felt herself sag against Rickon as the door closed with a tud behind them. She saw a similar slump in Sansa's shoulders as Jon held her horse for her to mount. Her eyes shinned with tears as she looked down at Jon.

"Thank you, Jon." She whispered. He only nodded, even if he was forced to marry, he would not force Sansa to do the same again. And Baelish was, without a doubt, a predator. He would treat Sansa well because of his obsession with her but Jon did not want to subject her to his perversions. Jon turned to Eilonwy, possession shinning in his eyes. He stalked toward her Luke the wolf he was, took her into his arms and kissed her fiercely. Eilonwy didn't fight him or try to stop him. She revealed in the passion and fire it lit inside of her. Rickon shifted uncomfortably and moved back. 

Jon pulled back and looked at the dazed fewaturews of Eilonwy. If Sansa's hands had not held his, he would have struck out at Baelish for daring to suggest that he marry Eilonwy. She may not belong to him like he wanted but he loved her with all the passion he was capable of. He couldn't stand the idea of her being with someone else, in that instant Jon wasn't sure how he could be King without her by his side. 

"Jon," her voice was soft and co!landed his attention. He looked over face, memorizing her features. He wasn't sure how, but he was going to keep her by his side. "I must go, Jon." She insisted. His arms tightened around her more, her hands fisted in his tunic. He leaned down and kissed her softer. 

"Come back to me." He whispered against her lips when he pulled back. She nodded, her lips brushing against his. 

"I will come back to you, Jon." She whispered. He released her and she mounted her made, cast a last longing look at Jon before spurring Illas on toward the Twins. Jon watched her disappear once again and couldn't stop the ache in his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some intrigue for you, my dear readers. I really enjoy Lpord Baelish as a character. He is one you love to hate and yet his games keep you guessing. I am sure we all know that it will not be that easy to keep him leashed. In the meantime, on to the Twins and Frey!


	19. Of the Twins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are, dear readers. The first step toward the stunning conclusion of my story. Fear not, we still have quite a journey ahead of us. Enjoy!

Chapter XVIII

Eilonwy found her troops easily enough, both she and her mare exhausted from the push to meet up with them in time. Brynden all but hugged her in greeting, his worrying over her traveling alone had apparently been extreme. He looked her over and when he was satisfied that she was unharmed, he turned to the keep, whose windows where dark. Eilonwy felt a frown turn down her lips. She glanced at Brynden, who nodded. 

"I am unsure as well, Eilonwy." He said. "Our scouts report that the troops left just after sun down. The gates between the two keeps on the bridge are down but they have not seen any activity since the torches were lit in the main keep." Eilonwy's frown deepened. She looked at Brynden and then to the tower walls. 

"How rested are you feeling tonight, Brynden?" She asked. He looked baffle but flexed beside her.

"I am fit and ready." He answered. She looked at her archers and motioned them forward. Two came up with their cross bows. 

"I need you to lodge arrows into the stone wall for hand and foot holds. Lord Brynden and I will scale the wall and drop the gates." They nodded and took aim, she motioned for the troops to huddle in. 

"We are presented with a rare opportunity tonight. Frey's aggrogance has left him vulnerable, he has left the gate to his own keep down, thinking that the arm of the Lannister's will shield him from the wrath of the North." Many grunted their approval. "But they are not here. Tonight we take the Twins in the name of the North. You half will sweep and seize control of this keep. No killing women or children. You rest will follow Lord Brynden, Ser Tully, and I to the second keep. By sun rise, the Twins will be ours. For the North!" They echoed her whispered. She slung her shield over her back and looked at Brynden. He smiled mischievously at her. 

"Race you to the top!" He whispered and took off running for the steady arrow ladder the archers were creating. She let out a soft laugh and charged after him. She reached her ladder just after he did, the archers had done their jobs perfectly. Two thin lines of arrows ascended the keeps outer wall, Eilowyn gripped the small shaft and began to climb, quickly over taking Brynden, who was softly cursing at the largeness of his own hands. Despite what he was sure to claim was a disadvantage, they reached the top together, quickly swinging over the tops. Eilonwy landed without a sound and paused, her sensitive ears straining to hear guard movement. She coulds barely make out Brynden's crouched figure in the moonless night. She frowned deeply as she stood and moved to meet Brynden in the center, they exchanged puzzled and uneasy looks as they made their way down tpo the gate house. Eilonwy had her dagger drawn for a quick and silent kill. They encountered only four guards. Each killing two without making a sound.

Eilonwy and Brynden shared pained looks as they lowered the gate slowly, not wanting to rouse any guards or Frey's. It seemed to take a longer time than t should for the weight on the turning wheel to ease as the gate touched the ground. They glanced out the slits of windows to see the dark shapes of their force silently invading the courtyard. Brynden gave her a sweaty grin and they dashed to meet their men. 

Once their invading party was in the main courtyard, she reminded the men that no women or children where to be harmed. It was unfair of them to pay for the decisions of men who did not ask their opinion. But Frey men where fair game. Eilonwy had heard along the road alone that the Frey men where unpopular, even with their own wives. Not many tears would be shed for their deaths. Walder Frey himself was a cruel and vicious man that the lands had no love for. As they gathered the other half of their forces, Eilonwy silently hoped that Baelish would prove to be a better, wiser Lord. 

They made there way swiftly across the sturdy stone bridge, which seemed to be the only thing that was kept in good repair. Eilonwy looked deeply into the large maw of the second keep, surprised that no lights were lit here either. The only windows that shone like beacons were the dinner hall, or so Brynden had darkly informed her as they had assessed their approach. It was the place of the Red Wedding, when the floors had been drenched in the blood of the North. Once inside the keep, Eilonwy motioned for the group to divide. Half began to secure the castle from bottom up, the other half headed to the dinning hall, where many of the Frey men were undoubtedly gathered. Eilonwy and Brynden found the musicians nest, which was thankfully empty. They could see the whole hall from here, many a dozen or more men had gathered. Some even baring the Golden Lion of the Lannister house. But not anyone who could be considered royalty. The Frey women of note all sat quietly at a corner table, a single maid moving between the refill the glasses, artfully dodging reaching hands of drunken men. Eilonwy looked for a moment at the maid, feeling a tingling in her mind. Eilonwy did notice that the women did not drink, nor barely ate. She frowned and looked at Brynden to see if he noticed as well. He had, his eyes taking in the odd scene. They could see their men, creeping up through the shadows and posting, waiting for her to make the first move. 

Ei!onwy watched as the maid brought Frey a pie, cutting him a healthy serving. He ordered her to go find his sons, but she kept insisting that they were here. Eilonwy's brow furrowed deeper as the men in the room began to act odd, some slumping over their half eaten plates, others holding their chest as if pained. 

"They are here, my Lord." The maid insisted, focusing her eyes on the pie that Frey had been eating. Eilonwy shot a look at Brynden, dawning horror on his own face. Frey seemed to be coming to the same conclusion and looked on the verge of being ill. 

"They were hard to carve up." She motioned to the teeth that sat in the meat of the pie. The maid grab her face and in a swift move revealed another. That face held a head of dark, slightly curling hair and dark eyes. Eilonwy felt her heart seize as she recognized a Stark face. 

"My name is Arya Stark. I want you to know. The last thing you are ever going to see is a Stark smiling down at you, while you die." In a swift movement, Arya had gripped Frey's forehead, forcing it back against her shoulder and had drawn a knife sharpely across his throat. Hot blood sprayed out, and cries of alarm followed. The men who had not been drinking began to rise. Eilonwy hoisted herself up and over the bannister, landing with a soft thud, her sword raised to protect the young Stark. Brynden landed behind her and they men rushed the hall. Shouts of increasing alarm rang out along with the sound of swords clashing. The Frey women coward in the corner, many of them had seen what had happened at the Red Wedding and feared for their lives but a group of Eilonwy's men only surrounded the table to both protect them and keep them where they were. Eilonwy spun to find Arya smiling coldly down at Walder Frey as his blood continued to pour out. She sheathed her sword, trusting Brynden to have her back. She held her hands up to show the young Stark she was no threat.

"I come on behalf of House Stark, Arya. Your family has retaken Winterfell." Eilonwy said, Arya's eyes had latched onto Dire Wolf head that Jon had ordered pressed into her leather chest plate. Arya's bloodied fingers traced the sigil of her house. "Jon has retaken Winterfell, with Sansa and Rickon by his side." Arya's fingers then traced the small three headed dragon over her heart. Arya frowned at thew sigil of House Targaryen. Her eyes searched out Eilonwy's for an answer.

"Jon is a not a bastard. He is the true born son of Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen. A secret that your father swore to protect because of Robert's vendetta against the Targaryen line." She could see Arya's mound working, she had heard Ned utter the words "I promise," to Lyanna's likeness in the catacombs of Winterfell. 

"I had always wondered." Arya remarked. Eilonwy looked at the woman in from of her. She was a far cry from the little Arya Stark that had been spirited away from King's Landing following the death of her father. The woman in front of her was hard and trained to be an assassin. No doubt Walder Frey had been on that list.

"Come home with us, Arya." Eilonwy softly requested. "There will be time enough for vengeance." She could see the indecision on Arya's face. Vengeance was what had driven this girl's survival for years, giving it up would be a feat. Arya looked around, this name had been crossed off her list but there were still others. Yet she longed to see Jon again and Rickon, even Sansa with whom she had fought relentlessly as a child. But she was not a child any more, none of them were.

"I will go home. I may not stay but I will return to Winterfell with you." Arya finally said, feeling as if a weight had lifted. Eilonwy smiled but did not move any closer, instead she looked out over the hall. Bodies lay every where, not a single one of her men.

"Poision?" Eilonwy asked, seeing some of them still slumped over their food. Arya smirked.

"Belladonna, in the ale." Arya responded and Eilonwy had to admit it was very smart. The bitterness of the ale would easily hide the taste of the poision. 

"None of the women drank." Eilonwy observed. Arya shrugged. 

"Sometimes the women are just as much victims of men's choice. They were not on my list." Arya responded simply, wiping the blade on her skirts. Eilonwy only nodded and headed for the corner of corralled women, whose faces had gone impassive. Their eyes followed her movements like a pack of wary animals. 

"I am Eilonwy, of the North." She began, her men stepping aside to let her pass. "I come on behalf of King in the North Jon Targaryen-Stark. We are claiming the Twins and soon Riverrun in the name of the North. Lord Petyr Baelish is coming to marry one of the Frey women. He is a fair and just man who will treat you better than your former Lord. If you wish to leave, you may. I am sure once Riverrun is restore to its proper Lordship," she glanced at Ser Tully, who grunted. "You will be welcome with Lord Edmure and Lady Roslin, bpoth of whom still live. We will not hunt you so long as you do not threaten the North. Every elwgiable maiden must stay until Lord Baelish chooses a bride." She explained, she watched as faces turned from shock to acceptance. A young woman stood, her doe colored hair was intricately braided, her leaf colored eyes were striking. She was plump and curvy, all around a very beautiful woman. 

"I will marry Lord Baelish." She said, her voice carrying authority. "I am Walda Frey, daughter of Edwyn and heir to the Twins." Eilonwy o ly nodded sadly, to be a woman in this time was hard. Especially a woman pof rank and nobility. "Please, my family is tired and distraught. We would like tpo retire." Eilonwy nodded.

"These men will escort you to your quarters and then stand guard outside. You understand that we can not take the risk." Young Walda nodded, resigned. The women walked out of the hall, probably expecting to be rape and killed but Eilonwy knew her men. They would do no such thing because they feared her wrath. Brynden came up to her as she looked sadly after the group. 

"She will make a good wife to Baelish, I see a core of strength in that young woman." His a voice rumbled. Eilonwy hummed her agreement but didn't like what she was forced to do. "The North will make sure her treatment is fair, Eilonwy. We protect our own." Brynden echoed Jon's words as if he had been there. 

"I know Brynden. But she could have ruled the Twins just as easily." Eilonwy stated, crossed her arms. They watched as their men began to drag the fallen out to the pyre. 

"Aye, but she could not keep it without the support of the Vale." Ser Tully grunted from behind them. They turned to see him, rubbing his beard. "So what is safe to eat her, niece?" He looked at Arya. She shrugged 

"anything but the pies at old Frey's table. And none of the drink." She responded innocently. Ser Tully frowned. 

"Damn waste of ale," he murmured. Eilonwy let out a short laugh. 

"After the pyre is lit, men, have your fill of hot food. But do not drink the ale, unless you wish to meet your ancestors." A cheer rose up from the men and the casts of ale where poured down the drains. 

***  
Eilonwy found the ravenry and began to write a letter to Jon. She explained that they had taken both of the Twins without Baelish yet their deal with him would stand. She explained that they had, quite by accident, come across young Arya, who would be returned king to Witnterfell with Eilonwy. She and Arya were returning alone because Brynden and Ser Tully wanted to retake Riverrun as soon as possible. Not that she could blame them, the faster they secure the North, they sooner they could prepare of Winter. She wrote that she and Arya would stay to witness the marriage of Lord Baelish and return to Winterfell within a fortnight. She signed her letter and sent off the raven. She tool a deep breath and stpopd in the building chill, watching the raven disappear into the North.

***  
The next morning, Eilonwy, Brynden, Arya, and Ser Tully stood atop the oiutter wall of the keep and watched as Lord Baelish arrived with his knights. He look of pure confusion when she called down to him, was one she wished she could record. 

"Welcome Lord Baelish! To the Twins!" Her voice rang out. He looked up in utter confuses but waved at her none the less. She nodded and the gate was lowered to permit Baelish entry into his new home. She descended the stairs into the courtyard to greet him as he dismounted. 

"I see I have yet again under estimated you, Lady Eilonwy." He drew her in and kissed each of her cheeks. His eyes were drawn to a marvellously dressed young woman. Her green eyes watched Baelish critically. Eilonwy looked over her shoulder.

"Lord Baelish, may I introduce you to Walda Frey, new Lady of the Twins. Your future wife." Baelish continued to smile, yet it didn't reach his eyes. 

"My Lady," he stepped around Eilonwy with a flourish and bowed deeply, taking Walda's hand. To her credit, the only thing that gave her away was the blush that creeper up her cheeks. "I must say, you are breath taking." 

"Not nearly enough, Lord Baelish. You still have breath to speak to me." He let out a hearty laugh and placed her hand in the crook of his arm. 

"I see you have quite a sharp mind, Lady. I look forward to learning every ascpet of it." They walked away together and for a moment Eilonwy actually believed that they had made a good choice. The Knights mingled with her men in the courtyard. That was when she felt the first kiss of snow on her cheek. She looked up and could see the edges of Winter creeping toward them, snow flakes beginning to fall. 

"Winter has come," Arya stood next to her, looking North. Eilonwy felt a thrill run through her veins. Winter had come and the Night's King was not far behind.


	20. Of Bear Island

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter was added simply because I ADORE the character of Lyanna Mormont! I wanted her to have a few scenes with Jon and the others, as well as Eilonwy. I will confess, some of the lines I took from the show and altered to fit my time line and story. But her essence is the same tough as nails little girl! Enjoy!

Chapter XIX

Jon, Sansa, Rickon, Brienne, Tormund, and their guard headed toward Deepwood Motte. He couldnt get what he wanted to say to Lady Lyanna straight in his head. Usually he would talk with Eilonwy but she was half the North away, taking the Twin. He hoped. He couldnt stop his worry over her safety, though he had seen firsthand how capable she was of protecting herself. 

"Jon?" Sansa's voice was soft but insistant. He looked over at her. His pace was more leisurely than Eilonwy's, allowing for conversations within the group. The Lady of Bear Island was expecting them in a few days. Time they had. 

"Jon, I want to ask you..." She started but didnt finish. He looked at her glistening eyes and knew.

"Why I didn't agree to marry you to Baelish." Jon finished, she nodded. He took a deep breath and looked up as the snow began to fall. "You have been forced into not one but two marriages, Sansa. And though I may require you to marry for allegiances, as will Rickon, it would not be Baelish. I will be forced to marry another, one whom I do not love. And the one I love will disappear back into the far North, where I can not visit because of my duties. I want you to have a chance at happiness Sansa. A chance many may not have." He explained the feelings he held in this heart as best he could. A tear streaked down Sansa's face as she listened. 

"Love can still grow in a marriage made for allegiances, Jon." She whispered softly, thinking of her parents. Jon nodded but couldn't help disagreement.

"Yes but the love I have for Eilonwy has swept me away, Sansa. It took me quite by surprise and I fear without her I will be but a shadow of who I am with her beside me." He said more to himself than to anyone else, thinking of his own parents but unlike them, he would not marry for love and doom an empire. 

"You are a good King, Jon. With or without her." Rickon said beside them. Jon nodded, knowing their words were meant to comfort but the ache in his chest at the thought of being without Eilonwy would not ease. 

As the sun dipped below the line of the forest, they pulled to a stop and set up camp for the night, they were greeted by the songs of dire wolves howling deep within the trees. Both Sansa and Rickon looked upset, having lost their wolves. Jon wondered where Ghost had gotten off to this time. Every now and then, Jon would spot a white streak running closed by and smile. Ghost was never far from Jon.

"We will be to Deepwood Motte by mid sun tomorrow." Brienne estimated as Tormund roast two kills over the fire.his eyes never wandered far from the tall yet striking warrior. Brienne for her part, seemed use to it now. Jon smiled at them, perhaps they could marry for love and lust. Food was eaten and the others bedded down for the night but Jon ... Well he found it hard to sleep as the moon struggled to break through the building storm. From the corner of his eyes, he saw Ghost emerging from the forest, fresh blood on his muzzle. Ghost silently padded past the sleeping forms of his companions and bummed into Jon's side. Jon reach around the wolf's head and scratched his ears with vigor. 

"I miss her too, old friend." He whispered as the wolf laid at his feet. Together they watched the moon rise high over the storm and shine down through gaps in the clouds. Jon couldn't place his finger on it but the moon light reminded him of Eilonwy. A subtle warmth and one could feel if they were open. As he watched the moon, he could feel the cold kisses from the snow flakes. Winter was here and he didn't know how much time they had left to prepare. 

***  
The rest of the journey was uneventful and before Jon was ready, he found himself standing in the hall in front of a scowling child. Her dark and undoubtedly unruly hair was pulled back severely from her face and braided, its length falling over her shoulder. Her inky black eyes were cool and calculating. She wore what appeared to be a full body sleeve with a high neck, a woven skirt that reached her rib cage and a small breast plate. Over it all she wore a cloak of thick bear fur and doe hid gloves. Her advisors sat on either side of her, looking rather unsure. 

Jon, Sansa, Rickon and Ser Davos came to a stop. Brienne and Tormund and the others stayed far back. Jon stopped at the base of the stairs that would ascend to her seat and cut a formal bow to her. Rickon and Ser Davos did the same and Sansa curtsied. 

"Lady Mormont." Jon called as he stood. She nodded.

"Welcome to Bear Island." She said, her voice held a commanding edge to it despite her age. 

"I remember when you were born, My Lady. You were named after my Aunt, Jon's Mother. She was a great beauty. I am sure you will be too." Sansa tried the woman to woman approach first. Lady Lyanna snorted in a very unlady like fashion. 

"I doubt it. My mother was not a great beauty. She made up for her lack of beauty with her skills as a warrior. She died along side your brother, Robb." Lyanna watched as the group seemed to falter a bit. 

"I served under your Unlce at Castle Black, he too was a great warrior. He ..." Jon had begun but Lyanna held up her hand. 

"I think that is enough small talk, Lord Jon. What are you seeking here?" She demanded. Jon felt his temper flare a bit. 

"While Stannis Baratheon was garrisoned at Castle Black, showed me a letter your wrote.It said ..." Jon was again interrupted back her tough voice., 

"Bear Island knows no King but the King in the North, whose name is Stark." She quoted. "I remember well what it said." Jon took a few deep calming breaths before continuing. 

"Robb is gone but House Stark is not. We've come to ask for your alliegence and offer Naval support." Jon stated, thankful she had let him finished. One of her advisors leaned in whisper in her ear. She nodded to him and waved him off with a hand. 

"But are you a Stark, Lord Jon, or a Targaryen? Men honor their father's house first." Jon felt a chill run down his spine. Eilonwy had said something very similar to him before they parted. How had she known? 

"I honor the House that raised me." Jon said defiantly. Lyanna smirked at him. 

"I am a Stark and so is my sister." Rickon spoke for the first time. She turned her chilled stare toward him. 

"Yes, but as I understand it, you do not want to be King. And she ..." Lyanna pointed at Sansa. "Is it Sansa Lannister or Bolton? I have heard conflicting reports and am not sure which to believe." Sansa stood alittle straighter and glared down the defiant child. 

"I did what was necessary to survive." Sansa stated in a strong voice, her eyes narrowing on Lady Lyanna. 

"If you say so. I know why you are here and it is not just for my alligence. You want my fighting men." Lyanna looked back at Jon. Jon felt a blush creeping into his face. 

"Yes," He admitted. "But you have to understand..." But Jon was cut off yet again by the increasingly annoying child.

"What I understand is that I am responsible for and to Bear Island. All who live here relay on my decisions to keep them safe." Her voice left no room for arguments. 

"My Lady, if you please, I do understand." Ser Davos stepped up beside the three stunned Stark's. Her eyes flitted over to him and she frown in confusion. 

"I do not know who you are. Ser?" She said, spounding a little bit more like a little girl. 

"I am Davos or House Seaworth." He claimed, her frown deepened as she looked to her adviosr. 

"There is no need to seek an explaination, my Lady. My house is ... new." Ser Davos explained. Her frown lessend but she waved fro him to continue. 

"Please tell me how you understand my feelings." She challenged. Davos took a few more steps froward, one of his feet coming to rest on the bottom most stair. 

"You never thought you'd find yourself in your position. Being responsible for so many lives at such a young age, just I never thought I'd be in my position. I began my life as crabber's son, then I became a smuggler. And now..." He paused, the sights of his life passing briefly before his eyes. "Now I find myself addressing the lady of a great house in time of war. But I'm here because this isn't just someone else's war. It's our war." Lyanna seemed very interested in what he had to say, Jon found himself holding his breath. 

"Please go on, Ser Davos." Lyanna requested, her voice taking on a tone of interest. Jon silently thanked Eilonwy for suggesting that he accompany them. 

"Your uncle, Lord Commander Mormont, made that man his steward." Ser Davos pointed a sturdy finger at Jon. "He chose Jon to be his successor because he knew had the courage to do what was right, even if it meant giving his life and he did. His brother's murdered him because he could see the bigger picture. The bigger picture that both Jeor Mormont and Jon Targaryen-Stark understood. That the real war isn't between a few squabbling houses in the Seven Kingdoms. It is between the living and the dead. And make no mistake, my Lady, the dead are coming." Jon held back the urge to applaud Ser Davos and his way with words. For a moment the entire hall hung in silence. Slowy Lyanna's eyes turned to Jon, a new light in them. He felt the weight of her decision, a decision he had made himself when he made the deal with the Wildlings. For a moment he felt the cold blade of Olly's dagger pierce his heart again. 

"Is he speaking the truth?" She asked. Jon nodded only, a solemn light in his eyes. 

"Jeor fought them at the Fist of the First Men. I fought them at Hardhome." Tormund cast his eyes to the floor and Brienne reached out to take his hand in comfort. "We both lost, grievously. For every man, woman, or child we lost, the Night's King gained."

"A divided North won't stand a chance against the Night King. You want to protect your people, my lady. I understand. But no one can hide from this. The dead will sweep down from the far North and distroy all life. We have to fight and we need to do it together." Davos pushed. Lyanna was nodding as her eyes bored into Jon's. 

"My house has kept fealty to the Stark's for over a thousand years." She paused and everyone held their breath. "I will not break that fealty now." Jon felt his breath leave him in a rush, Sansa and Rickon both sagged in relief and Davos broke out in a rare full blown smile. Jon watched as one of her advisors leaned over to whisper in her ear again and handed her two pieces of parchment. They all watched as she unfolded the paper, her eyes glazing over the words. 

"My lady?" Ser Davos asked her as a wicked smile spread across her face. She handed the first off, motioning for it to go to Jon. 

"It seems, your Lady Eilonwy has taken the Twins." Lyanna stated and the room feel into silence. Jon read over the note and his knees nearly gave out. 

"Arya," his voice was a horse whisper. Sansa and Rickon rushed to his side to read over his shoulder. Brienne and Tormund came closer and Ser Davos just waited. "Arya killed Walder Frey and half of his army. Eilonwy and Lord Brynden arrived just before and took on the rest of his army. Walda Frey, heir to the Twins has agreed the marry Lord Baelish, in exchange for leniency for what remains of her kin. Which happen to be all the women. Eilonwy advises that we keep our deal with Lord Baelish and show mercy to what remains of House Frey. She quotes Arya 'Sometimes the women are just as much victims of men's choice'. Lord Brynden and Ser Tully plan to retake Riverrun within the moon." Jon looked up at the young Lyanna. 

"I have a request." She said as Jon handed off Eilonwy's letter to his cousins, for it contained a few details of Arya's well being. Jon nodded for Lyanna to continue. He noted the second letter in her hands. "I would like to meet Lady Eilonwy and Arya." For a moment, Jon was stunned. 

"With the North united, we must have a full gathering of the Lords and Ladies of the North, to declare you King." One of her advisers stated. Lyanna handed him the second parchment. It was from Lord Manderly, he and Lord Reed had sent out a call for the gathering within the next two moons. The letter stated that Winter had Come and the North needed to be a united front behind King Jon Targaryen-Stark. To protect against the Southern invaders and the dead that were coming from the Land of Always Winter. 

"It seems that my house was not the only one who missed the first gathering." Lyanna observed, and it was true. Many of the minor houses had not come but now the Vale had commited, they would need to attend as well. Jon felt his heart seize in panic. "They seem to be quite confident that Riverrun will be retaken within a fortnight." She added, Jon was sure that is how Ser Tully wanted it. His kin was imprisioned there with a pregnant wife. 

"We hope," Jon murmured. Lyanna stood and descended to meet Jon's eyes. 

"It seems we will see each other again soon, my Lord." She kissed his cheek, leaving Jon stunned. "I will bring the men my house can spare with me to the gathering, as requested." 

"Thank you, Lady Lyanna. And Lord Manderly's ships should be here within the moon to help defend Bear Island from the sea." Jon said, almost automatically. He was still feeling a bit dazed as the implications settled on his shoulders. His one hope was that Lord Manderly would keep his word and not discuss marriage until after the dead were defeated, the North secure. 

"I look forward to meeting this Lady Eilonwy of the North. According to reports, she is the greatest warrior to ever fight for the North." Jon felt his body move of its own accord, as he bowed to Lyanna and turned with his party to head back to Winterfell.


	21. Of The Starks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are my lovelies! One more chapter toward the end. Enjoy! The conclusion is coming!

Chapter XX

Eilonwy felt the sting of the snow against her exposed skin as she and Arya traveled North to Winterfell. They had received a raven from Reed and Manderly, calling for the entire North to attend the coronation of King in the North, Jon Targaryen-Stark. And to bring the fighting men they could spare for the defense from the evil coming down from the Lands of Always Winter. Eilonwy wondered if Jon knew that they had planned this. Howland would only act in Jon's best interest, he had sworn to that. Lord Manderly as well only wanted what was best for the North and that was a united front behind a crowned King in the North. Arya and Eilonwy had left Ser Tully and Brynden with a soild plan of attack to take back Riverrun. Ser Tully was familiar with all of the hidden passages, much like Winterfell. He was confident that they would retake it within the moon, thus truly securing the North. Lord Baelish ahd moved into the Twins but upon Walda's demand, they slept in different areas of the castle until they could be married properly. Baelish in his confidence that he could charm Walda acquiesced to her request. 

"I see it!" cried Arya in an almost child like delight. Eilonwy shielded her eyes from the snow and could see the towers of Winterfell growing in the distance. She felt her own heart jump in joy at the thought of seeing Jon again. But she was afraid. Afraid that the Lords would insist on a marriage to a Northern Lady of royal blood. The castle grew larger and larger as they grew closer and Eilonwy felt as if her heart would falter before they arrived. 

They were greeted in the courtyard by stable boys, their horses and belongs being taken care of for them. When Eilonwy asked where Jon was, the boys only pointed toward the great hall. Eilonwy nodded her thanks and turned but found Arya frozen to the spot. Snow quickly filling in their foot prints. The snow was nearly to Eilonwy's ankle and she knew from her vision that the snow had been packed for at least a fortnight before the Night's King and his army arrived. This snow was still fresh and light. The heavy Winter had not come yet. 

"Arya?" Eilonwy called to her softly. Arya held her hands out, catching the falling snow, an almost blank desperation in her eyes.

"The last time I was here, my family was still together and alive." Arya whispered, blinking back the memories that threatened to over take her. Without warning Arya took off, toward the Stark tombs. Eilonwy did not follow. Arya needed this time to reconcil who she was with who she is now. Eilonwy walked through the deepening snow to the main hall door and gave them a rough, powerful shove.

***  
Jon sat with his mostly complete council. When he had arrived back at Winterfell, Manderly and Reeds had explained that now that the Twins belonged to the North, it was time to officially declare him King in the North. They couldn't wait for his permission because news would reach the South as soon as the assault began on Riverrun. They needed the pledge of each house before the South came this way with their armies and navy. Manderly was certain that it was only a matter of time before Cersi figured out how to handle the Faith and its High Sparrow. So they had sent the letter to all the Northern families and the Vale. All had responded, including Lord Baelish, soon to be Lord of the Twins. And all were coming, would be here in a few days. 

Suddenly Jon felt the hairs on his body rise, his a back went stiff as he turned to the main doors. Which flew open with a forceful shove, snow swirled in around a dusted figure. For a moment there was silence and everyone tensed, until the figure pulled back the hood and mouth cover. Eilonwy's breath taking face was revealed, her cheeks flushed by the Winter chill. 

"Hello Jon." She said softly and before Jon knew what was happening, his feet were carrying him across the distance between them. He pulled her into his arms and for once she did not stop him. Instead she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him closer. And then he was kissing her and she him. Only a clearing throat pulled them apart. Jon felt a blush creep into his cheeks. 

"Close to door, Lady Eilonwy. Not all of us are dressed as you." Lord Manderly's voice was kind and jesting. Sansa and Rickon came toward her and suddenly Jon remembered who was suppose to come home with her. He frowned and looked around her. 

"Arya?" He asked. Eilonwy smile softly to him. 

"You know where she went, Jon." Was all Eilonwy said. Sansa, Rickon, and Jon dashed for the Stark tombs to find their beloved sibling. Eilonwy looked after them but soon closed the heavy doors. Maddy appeared and raced into Eilonwy's arms. 

"We were worried m'lady!" She said as she stripped Eilonwy of her heavy winter gear, hanging it to dry by the fire. 

"There was little threat at the Twins, Maddy. But I am thankful for your concern." Eilonwy touched the young woman's face lovingly. 

"Oh!" Maddy cried. "Your hands are chilled! I will bring you broth to warm ye!" Before Eilonwy could protest, Maddy was off the to kitchens. Eilonwy looked up at the council, the smiling faces. Even Manderly had a gentle smile on his face. 

"So, what news?" She asked walking up to the table. 

***  
Arya hadn't bothered to light a torch but Jon knew where she would be. He lead Sansa and Rickon toward the end of the tunnel, where their father's bone sat, next to Lyanna Stark's statue.. The light of Jon's torch slowly illuminated the sitting figure of Arya, who held their father's skull in her hands, peering info the empty socks that once held his kind eyes. Sansa stepped forward reaching out.

"Arya?" Her voice trembled as is she were afraid that this was some cruel trick the gods were playing on them. Arya looked up at Sansa, her face blank. Sansa fell to her knees in the dirt and placed her hands over Arya's. And it was as if a dam had burst. Arya let out a horrible howl of pain and Sansa gathered her into her arms. They gripped each other and cried for all they had lost. Sansa reached up to both Rickon and Jon, who fell heavily to their knees and encircled the girls with their arms. 

At first, Jon couldn't believe it but as Arya's cries echoed down the tombs he was sure. He could feel their heaving breaths as they croied, feel Arya's tremvling form againat his chest, feel the sharp pain of Rickon's fingers gripping his arm. Pain assailed him as he held his 'siblings' for they would always be his brother and sisters. Jon felt the white hot prick of tears at the corners of his eyes, but what truly undid him was Rickon. Jon looked across to his little brother, whose grip was near strangling around his sisters, his arms shaking with the effort to gold them closer. His eyes were clenched tightly closed, tears leaking out of the corners. His face a mask of horror, pain, and relief. The same brutal mix Jon felt in his own heart. Rickon opened his blue eyes, eyes that came from their Tully heritage, tears streaming freely down his face. Jon placed a tender hand on his cheek. A ragged sigh escaped Rickon and he buried his face in Sansa's hair, muffling his own cry of pain . Jon let go and felt his pain that had been buried so deep for so long. The pain that had lanced through his heart when news of Ned's murder reached Castle Black, the only father he has ever known and the only one who he believed knew of his birth mother. Then news of Robb's murder and the Red Wedding came, shattering Jon's fragile heart. Jon felt a shudder run through him as he squeezed them tighter and cried for all they has lost and all he may still loose. 

There in the dwindling torch light, the long passed Stark's watched over the tears of the four remaining Stark's but could do nothing to ease their pain. Of only marble eyes could cry, thee tomb would be flooded. 

***  
Eilonwy held herself in a tight hug. The council had long since retired after filling her in. The Northern Navy had been dispatched before Jon left to meet with Baelish. They had been very confident that Lady Lyanna would support Jon's claim. Targaryen blood or not. The Mormont line had always been loyal to the Stark's and Manderly was sure she would honor her line. He had been right. All other House report that their sectors were secure, ravens came in every few days from the navy, reporting their positions. It seemed that the North was one step close to declaring its freedom. Now all that was left was to crown its King. The fire was burning low when the Stark's returned to the great hall. Eilonwy tpossed a few large logs into the fire, stoking it back into a roaroing blaze. Their were four bowls of hot stew waiting for them. Jon looked at Eilonwy thankfully and she nodded to him. She noticed, but didn't mention the matching red ringed eyes they all had. It had no doubt been a cathartic release for all of them. They sat at the table eating in silence as Eilonwy watched the snow fall get heavier. She felt the Night's King out there, in the far North. 

She must have gone into a sort of trance, the falling snow hypnotic because the next thing she felt was Jon's arms slipping around her waist. She turned as was startled to find that the younger Stark's had retired for the night. She looked up at Jon. 

"It has been a long day, Eilonwy." He stated and she agreed. "Let's go to bed. I want to hold you for as long as I can." She sensed that he too feared that with all the Northern Lords and Ladies in the halls of Winterfell, they would force a marriage on him. 

"As you wish Jon." She smiled as he pulled her face to his, his lips a feather lite touch against hers. It sent like shocks of lighting traveling down all her nerve endings. Jon pulled away, taking her by the hand and leading her to his chambers. The torches had all burned low as they !made their way through the castle. Shadows dancednin every corner but thanks in no small part to the staff, Winterfell's hallways were warm. The winter window covers had come out, keeping the chill out. Jon pushed open his door and the room was decorated with softly burning candles, the fire ablaze in both rooms and the tub was filled with steaming water and winter rose petals. Eilonwy stopped short, her heart faltering. 

"Jon?" Her voice felt and sounded a bit shakey. He turned toward her, sweeping off his cloak and hers, throwing them over the chair near by. 

"I don't know how much longer we have together, Eilonwy. With all the Lords and Ladies of the North coming here to unite, they may insist on a marriage. I can't avoid it but I will be da!Ned if we spend our last moments worried for tomorrow or the next day. I want you to know, really know that if it were my choice, it would be you. It has always been you, ever since I opened my eyes in that cavern." Eilonwy felt tears pricking her eyes, by the gods she loved him. Loved him more than her own life and would give whatever she needed to, to stay. She pulled Jon to her, kissing him with all the emotions she felt but could not say.

Jon felt a thrill that Eilonwy was not trying to put distance between them yet. He knew out was only a matter of time before a marriage was required. And he had feared that she would pull away but as her lips crushed against his, he silently prayed to the Old Gods that he could figure out a way to avoid marriage. He didn't want another, wasn't even sure he could. He pulled back and looked at her. 

"Eilonwy," he started, he wanted to say this before lust took his mind from him. "Thank you. Thank you for bringing me back, for training me, and having faith in me when I had none left. Thank you for bringing my family back together. We have all been alpine for so long, strong alone for so long. It feels better now that the remaining Stark's are back here at Winterfell. I know it would not have been possible, save for you." She smiled at him, a soft, sad little smile he had never seen before. 

"I did what they gods wanted, Jon. It is you, who will save the North. And soon Westeros. You had the strength to hold on and to keep going when all the odds were against us. Never forget that strength, not even if ..." She paused, shallowing thickly. She couldn't. Couldn't reveal too much or it could change everything. "It is that strength that the North needs, that strength that they will follow, that strength that I..." She stopped again. Not those words. She shouldn't say those words because oif she did, at least out loud, she might not have the strength to do what needed to be done. Jon smiled at her, a soft, gentle, and knowing smile. But rather than push her, he pulled her tightly into his arms. One of his hand rested on her hip, the other tangled in her hair at the base of her skull, holding her by a fist full of soft hair. 

"No more," he whispered against her lips and kissed her. She held on to him with all of her strength as the night grew and the moon could still break through bits of the storm. They held each other and made the fear go away.

***  
Jon slipped out of her arms before the dull light of morning broke through the storm. He felt drawn to the hall. He dressed quietly, taking a moment to admire Eilonwy's peacefully sleeping form. Her features were light and soft, feminine even. She didn't carry the weight in sleep that she did while she was awake. The soft lines of her face hardened in worry. Jon padded softly down the halls, the torches freshly lit and burning brighter. He could hear soft voices in the hall as he got closer. He pushed through the doors and found his siblings at the table, with Brienne and Tormund watching over them. 

"Jon!" Cried Arya, who was on her feet and in his arms before he could blink. For that beautiful moment, he could imagine that the last years had not happened, that he had never left for the Watch. But Arya was not the same rebellious girl who wanted to learn to fight like the warriors of legend. Who would beg to hear the stories of the great female warriors of old. Sansa was not the same prissy child who thought whatever it was she thought. And Rickon was no longer the same small boy who trailed after Bran, doing whatever his older brother did. Brienne bowed her head slightly in greeting.

"Crow," Tormund said gruffly but with a playful glint in his eyes. Jon smiled, for a moment they were just a family. No weight of a kingdom on his shoulders, no ugly death following the winter. Arya looked up at him with shinning eyes, much like she once did. She pulled him by the hand to the table. 

"Tormund was just telling us stories from the far North." She said, sitting down. Jon eyed Tormund suspiciously.

"Oh has he?" He voiced. Tormund gave him a mischievous smile but wouldsnt say more. 

"Jon?" Came Sansa's soft voice. They all looked at her. "Will you tell us about Eilonwy and your time in the far North?" She asked and for a moment, he was floored. He hadn't thought to tel them. Tormund was the only one who had been there when Eilonwy saved the Wildlings. He looked over at Tormund, whose eyes were dark with shadows of memories. He nodded, settling into the chair. 

"It began before that, while I wasa among the Free Folk and met a man named Mance Rayder. He was a man of the Night's Watch before seeing the corruption I did. He became an Oathbreaker and fled north of the wall. He became then unofficial leader of the Free Folk or King Beyond The Wal. In one meeting with him, he confided in me that he was trying to get all the Free Folk across the wall." Jon reflected. "He said to me, 'Do you know what it takes to unite ninety clans, half of whom want to massacre the other half for one insult or another? They speak seven different languages in my army. The Thenns hate the Hornfoots, the Hornfoots hate the Ice-river clans, everyone hates the cave people. So, you know how I got moon-worshipers and cannibals and giants to march together in the same army?...I told them we were all going to die if we don't get south. 'Cause that's the truth. Here's me being honest with you, Jon Snow, which is more than crows ever done for us. My people have bled enough. We're not here to conquer nor rape, pilliage nor plunder. We're here to hide behind your Wall, just like you. We need your tunnel. Now, we both know that winter is coming, and if my people aren't south of the Wall when it comes in earnest, we'll all end up worse than dead. You want to strike a bargain with me? Here's the bargain: you go back, you open the gates to us, and I swear to you that no one else will die. Refuse, and we'll kill every last man at Castle Black.' He had instructed the clans together in a place sacred to the Free Folk." Jon paused to take a long drink from his glass. 

"Mance was a good king, always had what was beast for us in his mind. Your mercy showed me you had the potential, Jon." Tormund said in earnest. Jon reached over and claped Tormund on the shoulder. 

"That was a dark day." Was all Jon said. No man deserved to die like that. "After I was elected Lord Commander, I knew I had it in my power to fix this. I saw the big picture, just like Mance had. Winter was coming and I had seen the walkers with my own eyes. A courrpt bastard would sacrifice his own new born sons to the Night's King. So I made a deal with Tormund. He convinced the Free Folk to fight with me when the time came, and I would allow them into the Gift Lands.. One a few conditions, they had to live together and they could not bother the surrounding Northern families."

"Oh aye! Easier said than done with some of the Free Clans." Tormund snorted. Jon let out a snort of his own in agreement. "Though Jon is over playing my role. I only agreed to take him to Hardhome. The talking was up to him." 

"I am guessing it didn't go well." Brienne asked. Jon and Tormund shook their heads. 

"We were in the middle of ... Negotiations when the Walkers descended. It was a massacre.* Jon paused, a chill running through his veins as the memories assaulted him. "It would have been a complete loss, if it had note been for Eilonwy. We were packed on the docks, many jumping and swimming for the ships Stannis had allowed us to use. Tormund, myself and a hundred or so remaining faced off with the wall of on coming walkers. Suddenly a figure jumped in between us and began tearing through the walkers, like it was easy. It was Eilonwy, she gave us the time to get into the boats and sail away." Jon felt goose flesh over take his skin as the image of ythe Night's King standing on the dock and raising all that had fallen.

"What he is not sayin' is that a walker or wight is invincible. Or damn near." Tormund leaned forward, capturing their attention. "Only with dragonglass or Valyrian steel. Else they keep coming until all are dead." Jon nodded, his brow furrowed. He had both and so did Eilonwy but how ere they going to arm all with either? Brienne looked down at the sword Jamie had given her. She possessed a Valyrian blade, made from Ice when Ned Stark was murdered. She swallowed thickly at the heavy weight she felt settle on her. 

"The army ..." Rickon saw the problem that Jon had been muddling over. They all shared a look across the table. 

"Yes, there are precious few Valyrian blades left and all the dragonglass I had was lost at Hard home." Jon confessed. In the mayley, the glass had been left behind. Jon's hand fell to Longclaw. He knew of seven swords and two daggers including Eilonwy's, the two swords of House Targaryen had been lost, Ice had been taken from Ned in King's Landing and Brightroar had been lost in Valyrian by House Lannister ages ago. Jon felt his hope dwindling as his mind spun down the possibilities. 

"So we need dragonglass." Came a deep rumbling voice. All turned to see Ser Davos leaning against a pillar. Jon felt his heart jump. 

"How much can you get?" Jon was on his feet. Ser Davos smiled his pirate smile at them all.

"How much do ya need?"


	22. Of Laughter and Guests

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is an update. A short one because I just couldn't figure out how to transition. But the next chapter will be up very soon, dear readers. Enjoy!

Chapter XXI

Eilonwy stretched her deliciously sore muscles, enjoying the warmth under the furs. She knew that Jon had left their room already. She couldn't tell what time it was, the snow fall was getting heavier and she could no longer see the sun through the storm. Eilonwy idlely wondered how many more mornings like this she had. She laid there for a few moments, just listening to the life in the castle. It was buzzing with preparations for the arrival of all the Lords and Ladies of the North. She felt that weight settle on her again. Eilonwy let out a heavy sigh and got up, slipping into her gown. This one was deep blue lined with black fur around the collar and wrists. Just like her other gown, the arms laced up so that she could go about her work in the make shift infirmary. 

Maddy and the others had her leathers again and were oiling them, cleaning them thoroughly. It had been a long, cold ride back from the Twins and her leathers were in need. Eilonwy still hadn't adjusted to being treated like a Lady of the North. She missed the smell of oil on her fingers when she worked her own leathers. She headed first to the infirmary, to check on her injured. Which went many any more. Most of the epople who had injured themselves came to her where ever she was to be treated and then went back to work. With little to tend in the infimiary she next headed to the Hall, no doubt the Ravens had arrived from Ser Tully and perhaps Brynden. Eilonwy smiled at the thought of the young Lord, she considered him a dear friend. She had told him such and told him that he must return, he had many things to do for the North. She hadn't seen that until shaking his hand. 

Though the thought hadn't crossed Sansa's mind, but it soon would once he returned with news that the Tully line had been restored to Riverrun. Now that she was healed and rid of the heavy threat of Lord Baelish and Ramsey Bolton. Eilonwy walked silently through the corridors and as she neared the Hall, she could hear roaring laughter. Curious Eilonwy peered into the Hall to find the table full of Stark's, laughter rolling between them. A lightness filled her heart at the sight. They had precious few reasons to laugh over the past years and yet now they were together again, the sound of their shared joy ringing in the Hall. Tormund spotted her first and nodded. Brienne noticed her next while the Starks were too busy laughing themselves to tears to see her approach. 

Jon wiped the tears from his eyes as he saw a blurred Eilonwy approaching. She smiled light heartedly at him. And he moved over on the bench for her to sit next to him. She slid quietly into the spot and looked around the table at their teary eyed laughing faces. She waited patiently for whatever images to fade from their minds. The feel and sound of Jon's continued chuckles warmed her heart.

"Arya was just telling us about Master Syrio. Who had her chasing cats through the Keep," Jon nearly wheezed as he broke into a fit of laughter at the idea of young Arya chasing cats through the Red Keep. Eilonwy let out a soft giggle but was far happier at the sight of the laughing Stark family than the image itself. The doors opened and Maddy came in with correspondents from their army at the Twins. Eilonwy's eyes grazed the letters and handed them to Jon. He nodded, knowing that there was business to attend to. By that time the remaining members had awaken and the council began to gather, they had another things to discuss. Laughter would have to wait. All of the Stark's were part of the council now and they had the North to defend.

***  
"Ser Tully tells us the assault has begun, just as planned. He says that Riverrun should be theirs within a fortnight." Jon said as the map was rolled out on the table. "But there is another matter we must discuss." He said as they all settled in with their meals, some with a morning ale. 

"The army that remains here needs a special type of weapon." Jon began. "Walkers are only vulnerable to two substances. Valyrian steel and dragonglass." Many faces took on a pensive look. 

"Valyrian steel is hard to come by." Said Reed, rubbing his beard. "Harder to reforge." 

"There are some in the North with the skill." Eilonwy stated, her mind drifting to Robert's bastard Gendry.

"Aye, and dragonglass has but on spot it can be found." Ser Davos amended.

"Dragonstone." Eilonwy said, looking at the island smack in the middle of Blackwater Bay. Within spitting distance of King's Landing. All eyes found the same spot. An uneasiness settled over the group. 

"And how, pray tell, are we suppose to get into the castle and out again without being seen?" Asked Lord Manderly. Eilonwy smiled a wicked smile, one that Jon had seen very few times. One that chilled him.

"For that, Lord Manderly, we will need a pirate." She looked over at Ser Davos, who had folded his arms across his chest, a small smirk lighting his face.

"It will have to be a small crew, the trip will take a fortnight, to and from. If we don't run into any trouble." Ser Davos stated, already eyeing Eilonwy. She only nodded, she would have to send word to Brynden. He needed to pick up a certain blacksmith she knew of along the King's Road on his return to Winterfell. Eilonwy knew that more Valyrian steel could be found and need to be reforged. Jon frowned at Davos, whose eyes never left Eilonwy. Again they would be divided for the sake of the North. He couldn't risk venturing so far into the South, if he were seized along the way, the North would fall apart again. They had worked too hard and given too much for this to fail now. But the idea of Eilonwy falling into the Souths hands made his stomach knot. 

"I will go with you, Davos." Eilonwy confirmed what Jon had been worried about. Even Manderly looked sympathetic for Jon's torment. But neither man said anything, they were wise enough to not argue with Eilonwy. She leaned over the map, seemingly oblivious to their attentions. Jon's eyes traced her features, memorizing every one. Letting them brand his heart. Her eyes danced over the map, her hair reflected so many colors in the fire light. Even in her Lady's gown, she looked fearsome. The Northern families were learning to respect her, slowly but surely. And if given time, the South would learn to fear her. 

"I will write to young Lord Blackwood, there is a blacksmith who works along the King's Road that can reforge Valyrian steel. He may prove to be useful. I do not think we can wait on this, the Lords and Ladies of the North will be arriving in a fortnight or so, due to the weather travel will be slower that expected, and I think it best if we can present them with not only Riverrun but weapons for the Northern army as well." Eilonwy knew their timeline, knew it better than anyone. She could feel the Night's King stirring in the Land of Always Winter but it was not yet cold enough for him to travel to the Wall. And even then, he had to figure out how to cross the magickal barrier. Ser Davos leaned in by her, as did the rest of the council. 

"Agreed," Lord Manderly said before taking a healthy drink of his wine. "The reclaiming of Riverrun and the Gathering are most important now. The Lords and Ladies may react better if they know their men will have a fighting chance. No doubt it will take Ser Davos sometime to arrange passage and scout out Dragonstone. Surely the Lannister's have not left it unguarded as Stannis did." Davos nodded, already writing the letter in his head, he knew Eilonwy would be willing to pen it for him. He never did finish his lessons with Shireen. His heart hurt for a moment at the thought of the young Princess, who's fate he didn't know. Yet he had this sick feeling in his gut.

Suddenly there was a commotion at the door and the sound of a wailing child. Eilonwy turned to see guards escorting in a young Wildling, holding a frightened child into the Hall. Jon felt his eyes nearly pop out of his skull at who he was seeing. Her mouse brown hair was much longer and braided, her face still soft and her eyes a dark brown of well tilled Earth. The little boy on her hip held a full head of curling blonde hair and striking blue/green eyes. His face was distorted in fear as his eyes searched for a friendly face. Jon and Eilonwy rushed forward to greet the mother and son. The boy's eyes immediately latched on to Eilonwy, his eyes growing owl large and round, his cries silenced.

"Gilly?!" Jon asked shocked, holding out his hand for the woman. The little boy held out his arms for Eilonwy, who was both startled and please as she accepted the heft of the little boy. The woman, Gilly, rushed into Jon's arms once free of the child's weight.

"Jon!" She said, clearly happy to see him. "When Samwell got the news, he sent us here straight away." She began to explain but Eilonwy was captivated by the small child in her arms, curling a thick strand of her hair in his little fist. His startling blue eyes looked up at her, in to her it seemed, and Eilonwy could only smile. The child cooed softly at her and returned her smile.

"Little Sam and I need you, Jon. Winter is here and we are not allowed in the Citadel with Samwell." Gilly was saying. Jon listened intently to what Gilly had to say, but there was a part of his heart that was memorizing what Eilonwy looked like with little Sam in her arms. She was rocking and cooing to him, calming him easily after the ordeal. Little Sam had a fist full of her hair and his eyes took her in with delight. Jon felt a tug on his heart.

"Samwell also asked me to bring you something." She pulled the wrapped article off her back and handed it to Jon. He carefully opened it to reveal a long sword. "I'm told its name is Heartsbane. The sword of House Tarly." Jon looked at the sword with wonder. Its hilt was a polished wood that matched the scabbard, the cross guards were fashioned to look like a bow, while the metal of the hilt resembled an arrow, the point of the arrow aligning with the middle of the blade. 

"And Sam?" Jon asked. Gilly nodded, confirming that they had made it to the Citadel and the the Grand Maester had accepted Sam into the Order. But Gilly was not so lucky. The Maesters were very strict, woman and children were forbidden from using the Citadel.

"You are welcome here, Gilly." Jon said and she looked like she may cry.

"I will be useful, Jon. I swear." But Jon was shaking his head before she finished her statement.

"You served your time with your grandfather, Gilly. I can not make you a Lady but you are a guest in my house. If you wish to help out, so be it but I am not requiring anything of you but to raise little Sam." Jon explained, looking over at the cooing child in Eilonwy's arms. His heart stung with the image, seeing a dark head of curling hair instead. Wishing it was their child she held. The smile on her face was one he would love to give her, it was the pure joy of building an innocent soul in a smiling face of a child. Sam let out a high pitched giggle as Eilonwy tickled his feet. Gilly smiled, relief washed away the worry in her brow. The head of the house staff came forward then, accepting the child from Eilonwy, who was grieved to let him go. With so much death, holding a new and innocent life lifted her heart.

"Oh it will be nice to have children in the castle again!" Cried the older lady, leading Gilly and Sam off toward their rooms. Jon and Eilonwy watched them go, exchanging a painful look before turning back to the stunned council. Jon simply waved it off.

"I will help Ser Davos pen a letter to whomever he wishes and I am sure we will be off within a few days." Eilonwy said, glad the council decided to not push into their brief but startling interruption. Ser Davos nodded to her and they bent their heads together to pen the letter that would need to go out as soon as possible. They had little time to make it to Dragonstone and back. 

Jon and the other's leaned over the map,discussing the positions of the Northern armies. Jon, Manderly and Reed went over the map with meticulous detail, looking for any hole that might be wormed through. Manderly insisted that once the North was united behind Jon, the South would not be able to force submission ever again. 

"It took the threat of Dragons to bring the North to their knees." Manderly said but to Eilonwy's ears, that statement had a prophetic ring to it. She frowned mostly to herself but Davos did not miss her expression. 

"Do you see the Targaryen line returning to Westeros?" he asked her quietly. She looked up into his sea blue eyes and debated. His eyes clearly sai he had faith in her, and had guessed things about her that others had yet to voice. 

"I see many a ship on the horizon and flying shadows." Eilonwy whispered to him. "The the things I see are like shadows on the surface of a pond. Something are certain and others remain just shadows. I know for certain that the Starks will save the North and then Westeros." Davos nodded but asked no more. In his time with Stannis and Melisandre, his eyes had been forcefully opened to the veiled world. A world where Eilonwy dwelt. 

"The let's arm them." Ser Davos stated.


	23. Of Dragonstone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See, I promised another chapter soon. Here you are my dear readers, one more step toward the end. Enjoy!

Chapter XXII

Eilonwy stood on the deck of the Black Betha, an old and dear friend of Ser Davos. The salty air whipping around her, taking her hair with it. She watched the Northern shore fade into the distance. Everyone on this mission had gone in with the knowledge that if caugth, they would be at the mercy of the South. The torment in Jon's eyes as he had said good-bye to her still made her soul ache. 

"Come back," was all he had said before kissing her thoroughly. Her lips still tingled with the ferocity. The response to Ser Davos' letter came early the next morning, saying that the Betha would gladly sail to the North to ferry them to Dragonstone. letters where exchanged over the next day, details from Davos' ring of spies that Dragonstone was actually maned by a meager force of less than a dozen Lannister men. Manderly had scoffed that the intelligence and called false. But Eilonwy patiently reminded him of the troubles in King's Landing. The Faith Militant had arrested royalty and the whole army was there, waiting for what would happen next. 

"But my lady," Manderly had said. "If the information proves fasle and you are captured ..."

"There are many ways in and out of the Castle, Lord Manderly. If they are quick enough to catch us, I dare say they deserve more credit than we have given them." She slienced him with her hand held up. He looked a bit pale about the jowels at the idea but he had no reason to think she would betray them or Jon. 

"If, Lord Manderly, if we are set upon, the South will find nothing but corpses." Jon's heart fell to his feet at the steel tone of her voice, even Davos looked a bit uneasy. "The North will be safe." No more was said that was unhelpful. 

Eilonwy pulled Jon's old Crow cloak closer around her shoulders as the winter wind picked up, whipping a chill across her cheeks. His scent lingered in the cloak and it gave her strength. She felt Ser Davos come and stand next to her, his son at the helm. 

"Why, Lady?" he began. Eilonwy turned her honey soaked eyes toward him. "Why did you do all of this?" Eilonwy inwardly cringed, Ser Davos was far smarter than many of the educated Lords of the North. His sea blue eyes looked more alive now that they were in the open sea. He seemed more free.

"For Life, Ser Davos." She answered simply. 

"Did you save Jon because you love him?" He pressed. She sighed, turning her body fully toward the good pirate. She could see he wasn't going to let thus line of questions go.

"I saved him because I believe he is the key to saving Westeros." She supplied. "I love him because of who he is in his heart of hearts. Any of the Starks could unite the North. But only Jon knows the true danger facing all life." Davos nodded, resting his hands on the railing beside her. His eyes distant. 

"I can say now, with full heart that I have never met a more loyal and fierce defender. I can see a good King in Jon. I would gladly lay down my life for him and for the North." Davos said, his eyes dancing over the sea. "Did you mean what you said to the council?" He finally asked the question that had been spinning in his mind. 

"About the corpses?" Eilonwy smiled rather wickedly and a chill went through Davos' blood. "Yes, Ser Davos, I did. But I didnt say it would be our corpses they would find." With that note, Eilonwy headed for her cabin, she had a few correspondents to write and send off before the sun set. 

Eilonwy sat down and unrolled a thick piece of parchment. She let her mind wander as she mixed the ink in her little vessel. Its substance thickening as she added more powder to create the inky black that reminded her so much of Jon's eyes. She could feel their timeline in her heart, tightening, the Night's King would be on the move soon. And though the Wall would give him pause, it would not stop him for long. She sighed and refocused on the letter that needed to written.

\- Brynden - she penned. - I am pleased to hear of the campaign to regain Riverrun. Ser Tully tells us it goes well. By now you have probably received my first letter, explained that I and a small crew are headed for dangerous waters. Blackwater Bay is a dangerous place for a Northern to be right now. But we must go. Dragonglass needs gathering and I feel that more steel maybe found in the old castle. That is why I write to you now. There is a young blacksmith by the name of Gendry Mott, he took his master's last name I am told, at the CrossRoads Inn along the King's Road. He can work Valyrian steel and I am sure we will be in need. Treat him well, my friend. He has many uses. He has a full head of thick black hair and ice blue eyes, he has such a stature that he will be hard to miss.- She sealed the letter with her seal that Jon had made for her. It was a weirwood tree but in the center was a looped design that looked a lot like the hands of a compass instead of a face. Eilonwy had wondered where he had found the knot symbol and if he knew what it represented. 

She pressed the seal into the deep red wax, feeling it harden aroun. She carefully peal it back to reveal her seal. She smiled, blowing a bit of air across the wax to finish the process. One of the ravens cawed at her as she glanced over toward the window. If the seas remained calm, they would be at Dragonstones door step within three days. Davos had already told them that they would steal into the hidden alcove under neath the castle during the dark of the night. He assured everyone that the ship would not be found, since the alcove was only known to him and Stannis. Eilonwy considered writing to Jon but what would she say that they were both not already aware of? Jon had made a point of not hiding his desires or feelings. He had whispered in her ear about the vision he had of giving her a swollen belly and a giggling child for her arms. That the image of Little Sam in her arms was forever branded on his heart. Eilonwy rested her hands briefly over her flat belly, sadness in her heart. 

Now is not the time for children, she mentally shook herself. Now is the time of war and revolutions. A war for life to continue to exist. She put away her feelings and once again focused on the task at hand. She stood and approached the ravens cage, the one who had cawed at her earlier eagerly hopped the front of the cage. Eilonwy opened the door and the large raven hopped into her hand, side walking to perch on her wrist. She rubbed the bird's head and it let out a soft caw of enjoyment. She smiled to the bird, slipping the letter into the leather pouch on the bird's back. 

"This goes to Riverrun my litte one." She whispered, the bird looked at her with it's keen eyes. "To Lord Brynden Blackwood." She gave the bird a small piece of raw meat that it happily downed as she walked over to the window, petting it's head and shoulders before opening the glass. The bird gave on final caw and flew off in the direction of land. 

The next days were miserable for Eilonwy. She gripped the railings as the Betha coasted over another wave. Ser Davos stood next to her and laughed almost delightedly at her greenish color. 

"If I didn't know any better, Ser Davos, I would think you are happy with my misery." She groused. Davos shook his head, setting a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

"It is just a relief to find that you are not good at everything, my Lady. There are whispers among many that you are not as you claim to be." He stated, handing her a peppermint leaf. She grunted her thanks in a very unladylike fashion and chewed on the edge of the leaf. The pungent flavor over whelming her senses and causing her eyes to water. She did sigh in relief as the herb mixture hit her heaving stomach and began to calm it. That was until a large wave slapped into the side of the Betha, rocking the boat, causing Eilonwy to loose her footing. Tumbling backward with a curse, her butt hit the deck hard enough to make her teeth chatter. Ser Davos, who had weathered the wave like an old sea dog, let out a roaring laughter and helped her to her feet. 

"Perhaps you should retire, my lady. The seas look like they may be getting a bit rougher." Eilonwy could feel what color there was left on her face, drain away at the notion. She nodded and allowed Davos to walk her skillfully to her cabin. Once Davos shut her door, Eilonwy dropped to her knees and crawled toward the swinging hammock that was her bed. She climbed carefully up into the bed and wrapped herself in Jon's old cloak, and chewed as many peppermint leave as she could without choaking. 

The next morning she awoke feeling very drained and near lifeless. Her stomach ached from the constant turning it had done all night, her limbs felt like seaweed and even her eyeballs hurt. She heard a soft cawing at her window, followed by a tapping on the glass. She turned her head painfully to the window to find a large raven sitting there, with a black ribbon flowing from the leather pack on its shoulders. Eilonwy let out a groan and made her way to the window, clutching Jon's cloak around her shoulders. She opened the window and leaned out for the raven to hop onto her wrist. She pulled herself and the bird back in and she gave a silent thank you to the Gods of the Sea for the calm waters. The raven gave a violent shake to dispell the sea water gathering on its wings. Eilonwy grabbed the letter sealed with Blackwood's sigil and gave the bird a portion of salted meat before putting it in the cage to rest. 

-Eilonwy- the letter began in Brynden block, rough writing. -The campaign goes well still, Ser Tully surely wishes to have his ancestral home returned to his brother and expecting wife. We expect that Riverrun will be ours within the next few days. Many of the Lannister men had been called South or have fled, while the Frey men are not battle hardened, nor warriors of any kind. As to your other request, consider it done. This Gendry Mott will be waiting your arrival with Valyrian steel. Be safe, my friend, I sense danger in the South and the North can not loose you. I look forward to seeing you again.- That last bit warmed her heart but she knew this was a risk they needed to take. She didn't respond to his letter, only sat back chewing on her peppermint leaves in an attempt to get her "sea legs" as Davos called them. She would need all of her strength for the task to come.

***  
"Dragonstone," whispered Ser Davos' voice from beside her on the dark deck. Eilonwy could see the ominous castle looming before them as they approached, silently skimming through the water. There was barely a torch lit in the castle, it seemed that Davos' intelligence was correct. The only real light came from the still buring volcano of Dragonmont. That is where their crew would find the Dragonglass they were in need of. 

Eilonwy could hear the screams and choas from King's Landing, they were so close. She could smell the rancid city and it made her stomach turn anew. She gripped the top deck railing and marveled at how Davos sitrred through the rocky cost and into a hidden alcove just beneath the Stone Drum. She could see the monsterous stone dragon with its wings half open watching their approach. Eilonwy felt a shiver run through her blood. The only reason she knew they had made landfall was because the stars dissappeared from over head. Winter had yet to reach the South. 

For a few tense moments Eilonwy, Ser Davos, and their crew stood in ready silence, listening to see if their approach and landfall had gone unnoticed. When no alarm was raised, Eilonwy vaulted over the railing and landed on solid ground. Strength infused her system as her feet touched the ancient and magical ground. It left her ears ringing and her body throbbing. She felt the soft impacts of the rest more than heard it. 

"Ser Davos, take the men and head for the caves of Dragonmont. Fill all the trunks you can carry. We need arrow heads and daggers, ebven swords if you can find the length." Eilonwy whispered to Davos. He nodded but frowned.

"And where will you go?" He asked, her eyes sparkled in the darkness. 

"I go hunting for Valyrian steel." She responded. Davos only nodded and lead the men toward the bowels of the castle, where there were rich deposits of all kinds of Dragonglass. Eilonwy watched them go, until she could no longer distinguish their shapes from the shadows. She took several deep breaths, finding her center, her calm. She followed her senses to a small dip in the foundation, a place where she could sit and focus.

Eilonwy curled her legs underneath herself as she settled into a seated position. She rested her hands carefully on top of her knees. Eilonwy counted her breaths as she slowed down her heart. Ever so slowly, her eyes drifted closed and her mind opened to the energies of Dragonstone that had been waiting to welome her, like an old friend. At first there was just a hum, a sort of vibration in her blood but then she was assaulted by sights, sounds, feelings, and memories. She felt the magic of old shaping and molding the stone. The frantic arrival of the Targaryen line. The slow but steady growing of their linage. These memories were ghosts of memories, from long ago. The newer memories were less pleasant. Eilonwy gritted her teeth as sweat beaded on her forehead. She felt the recent memories slam into her and it took every ounce of self control she had to not cry out. She felt her pregnant belly heave under the weight of the contractions as the raging storm seemed to be trying to rip apart the castle. Eilonwy's throat ached from the screams that Rhaella released as she struggled to give birth to Daenerys. She could feel Rhaella's strength waning as she lost more and more blood. 

'Must go further back,' she thought to herself. Grinding her teeth against the pain. She felt Rhaegar's death in the rebellion. His devastation as he knew that he would never meet his child with Lyanna. 

'Further.' Eilonwy pushed deeper into the memories and magic of the island. She felt Rhaegar strapping on his armor as he saw Robert's ships approaching, giving silent thanks that his wife and children were safe in King's Landing, in the Red Keep. Eilonwy was glad he did not live to know what became of his beloved children and Elia. She pushed further still until she felt as if the island would open up and swallow her. The pain coursed through her blood and all she wanted to do was scream. This place had seen so much violence and pain and death. Then she heard it. 

"Remember," whispered a male voice. "We come here to worship." It continued. 

"What do we worship?" Asked the child's voice. Eilonwy could see the statues of the Seven around the Sept. The kind face with lilac eyes smiled down at her. 

"Strength, my child." He answered. "The Valyrian strength in our blood and bone. A steel forged in magic and dragon's fire." Eilonwy's eyes snapped open, her heart pounding in her chest, making her temples throb, with the roar of dragons echoing in her skull. It was a miracle that the swords had not been found yet. 

Eilonwy sprang into action, her muscled legs eating up the distance between her and the Valyrian steel that now called to her. The castle was deserted and dark, musty smelling. The Lannister's had indeed left this place to rot. Eilonwy came to a stop in the entryway of the Sept of Dragonstone and stood for a moment in its glory. Even though the statues where long gone, burned by Stannis and Melisande, their echo of power still remained. Eilonwy walked carefully to the place where the Father had stood and knelt down. She ran her hand over the seemingly smooth stone and almost missed it. A small notch in the stone, just big enough for her dragonglass dagger to fit in. She drew the dagger and slid it into place with a soft click. Heart beating wildly, Eilonwy turned the blade. An octagonal shape popped out from the center of the stone. Holding her breath, Eilonwy pried back the stone and reached into the dark chamber beneath. 

For a heart stopping moment she felt nothing but empty space. She laid her torso across the stone and reached as far as her arm could stretch. That was when she felt it, the hilt of a sword. Her fingers grazed over the hilt and gripped tightly. With her grasp firmly around the hilt, she gently pulled the blade free. Eilonwy stood fully, unsheathing the blade from its stone. 

"Blackfyre." She whispered. The ruby gleamed in the scant light, the hilt with twin roaring dragons greeted her. The main hilt was formed dragonglass. "By all the gods," she whispered. The rest of the blades were freed easily fro!m their stone prisons. 

"Oi! What are you doing here?!" Shouted a voice behind her. Eilonwy froze, blades wrapped securely in a cloth she had found behind the main alter. She slowly turned to find a man class in golden armor, a roaring Lion on his chest. His eyes took her in and settled on the Dire wolf's head on her leathers. His blue eye widened in recognition and then terror.

Eilonwy was across the room, her blade buried in his side between where the chest plate and back plate meet, hand crushing his throat before he could breath another word. She whispered words of comfort in his ear as life left him, like a candle going out. She looked sadly down at hthe crumpled body and wiped her blade clean on his exposed tunic. Before another alarm could be raised, she gathered the body and shoved it behind the alter and gathered her prizes. 

The crew had just finished loading the trunks of dragonglass when she appeared. Davos looked at the bundle in her arms and only raised a bushy eyebrow. Her answering smile was mischievous at best. She tossed the bundle up and nimbly climbed the rope ladder to the deck. 

"The sun is setting," Davos' statement shocked her. Using her gifts altered her perception of time but she hadn't known she had lost an entire day. "We will be able to cast off very soon." 

"Good," Eilonwy said. "I had to leave a corpse." And Davos only nodded, his questioning eyes still on the clinking bundle Eilonwy had brought. She knelt down and opened the cloth. A collective gasp rang through the crew. 

"I'll be damned..." Davos muttered. "Seven?" He asked, his keen gaze assessing Eilonwy once again. She nodded, refusing to go into details. The extended use of her power was beginning to take its toll and she would repay the usage three fold. She preferred to be alone when that price came due. 

"Take us home, Ser Davos." Was all she said as she gathered the blades and made for her cabin.


	24. Of Lords, Ladies, and Dragonglass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies! Here is an update for y'all. It a bit short because for some reason, my brain just doesn't want to let go of the story and I have hit a writers wall. I will try to pry the story loose, but patient. I know how it ends, I just have to put the rest of the pieces in place for it to happen.
> 
> Enjoy!

Chapter XXIII

Jon watched the parade of Northern nobles entering Winterfell, banners flying proudly, announcing each House. All of the North had come, but Jon's eyes drifted toward the direction of the sea. There had been no word from Eilonwy or Ser Davos. Yet Ser Tully reported that they had entered Riverrun and where in the process of ousting the remaining Frey men. The women and children received mercy in part because of Walda Frey's deal with Eilonwy and up coming marriage to Lord Baelish. Jon honestly wouldn't have allowed the slaughter of women or children but the deal had endured Eilonwy somewhat to the river lands. Jon held Brynden's letter in his hand, somewhat crumpled in his fist really. The young Lord Blackwood had left the day before on an errand from Eilonwy, who had written to him from the sea. There was a young blacksmith who needed to come to Winterfell, a smith who could reforge Valyrian steel. Jon idly wondered if Eilonwy's quest had been successful and hoped to lay eyes upon her soon. 

"Jon?" Came a soft voice behind him. Jon turned to see Sansa, Rickon, and Arya standing behind him. They were each dressed in fine winter clothing, thick fur lined jackets. Jon smiled at his family. Arya was wearing a new made set of pants, she had refused to wear a dress. She reminded him of Eilonwy at times. Her fierce nature and disgust with dresses. 

"Everyone is gathering in the Hall." Rickon said, his hand resting atop the sword at his hip. Brienne had begun their training shortly after Eilonwy had departed. His King's Guard or what it would be. In truth they would not be ready for guarding for many years but Jon was well able to defend himself. Rickon had done his best to calm the gaggle of scared children when their families had left them here after the first gathering. It had taken a few days, but Jon observed they had begun to run about the castle as children are want to do. Children were resilient little creatures. Jon had observed on many occasions Rickon laughing and playing like he use too, only now there were shadows in his eyes. 

Jon refocused on his family and nodded. Maddy had braided his ever growing hair for him and trimmed his beard. He had bathed and his leathers and new cloak had been thoroughly cleaned. As Jon entered the courtyard, his guard fell into step behind them. Already they looked like warriors. Brienne had the leather worker make matching battle leathers for them, black mail was underneath, protecting their arms and torso. Black leather pants topped thick black winter boots. They had all been bathed and cleaned for the presentation, though apparently that had been a feat in it self. Jon hoped Lord Umber would be pleased to see them so well fed and happy. He had given the boys permission to keep correspondents going with their families. He would not cut them off for their house, like the Night's Watch had done to their brothers. 

Jon paused at the doors and took a deep breath. This burden was heavy and for a moment, Jon wanted to turn and run. Then he felt the small but warm hand of Arya slid into his, gripping with surprising strength. Sansa took his other hand and Rickon rested a hand upon Jon's shoulder. For a moment they stood like that, holding each other. Brienne and Tormund appeared, hands gripping the handles to the Hall. With one final deep breath, Jon nodded. The door were shoved open and in the Stark's walked, surrounded by their guard. 

The Hall went silent as they walked down the isle and to the newly called King's table. As practiced, one set of guards stopped on each ascending step and turned to face the assembled North. Jon and his family settled behind the table. While Sansa and Arya sat, Jon remained standing. Lord Manderly and Lord Reed sat at the closet table with their families and nodded encouragingly to Jon. 

"Welcome Lords and Ladies of the North." He began. Even though there was silence Jon could sense hostility in the air. "We have gathered today to make a choice. The South has abused and ignored the suffering of the North. Trusting in the Bolton's continued cruelty to keep us as prisoners of our own lands. Some betrayed the North to be spared that cruelty. Some revolted and paid dearly. But the Bolton's are gone. I killed Ramsey on the walls of this castle and whipped out the Deadfort. We are free for the time, of the Southern strangle hold on the North. We have this chance to make a choice and unite. Ser Tully and young Lord Blackwood, with a contingent of troops has not only taken the Twins and secured an alliance with the Vale, they have also retaken Riverrun for House Tully. Lord Manderly, with my consent and blessing has dispatched his fleet to secure our coasts. For the first time since the Targaryen's united Westeros, the North can stand free. Protected by the Vale and Riverlands, secured at the coasts by a Northern fleet." Jon was going to go on but an outburst from one of the Lords stopped him. 

"But it was you who allowed Wilding scum into the North!" Tormund bristled and turned toward the Karstark that shouted out. But Jon held up his hand, stilling Tormund.

"Yes I did. But the Free Folk came across the Wall to escape a greater evil than the Southern cruelty. They came with the knowledge that they were to leave Northern families alone and live off the Gift Lands. Lands given by my house to the Night's Watch." Jon's voice was harsh and clear but still some would not yield. 

"You are a Targaryen!" Shouted Karstark. 

"Raised by my Stark line, raised in the North. My blood and sword are for the North." Jon nearly shouted back. The Hall erupted in shouting voices. Jon pinched his nose in frustration. "How can we be a united front when all they want is to squabble over petty in differences?" Jon looked at his a family but all had the same look he did. 

Lyanna Mormont watched Jon's face, the frustration etched on every feature. She had seen clearly enough when he came to her on Bear Island that wearing the crown was not what he wanted. But she remembered and her House remembered what it had suffered at the hands of other ruling families that were not the Starks. Slowly she stood and for such a small child, she held a commanding presence. 

"I used to hear it said that we find our true allies on the battlefield." She began, her hard voice rang through the Hall. Silencing all others. "The Bolton's are defeated. By Jon and his band of Wildings. That battle is over. Then Frey paid next, young Arya Stark saw to that. They did that for the North." Arya sat a little straighter. 

"And winter has come! If the maesters are to be believed, it will be the coldest in memory. We should return home and wait out the storms. The war is over." Karstark interrupted. Lyanna's answering glare would have sent Jon running. Karstark swallowed hard and settled back into his seat. 

"The war is not over." Jon's fist slammed against the table. Many jumped at his outburst. "I promise that the true enemy will not wait out the storm, Lord Karstark. He brings the storm." Murmurs erupted in the Hall. Lyanna took that moment to begun again. 

"You son was butchered at the Red Wedding, was he not, Lord Manderly?" Her voice was louder still.

"Aye, he was." The tears in Manderly's eyes were unmistakable. 

"And you Lord Cerywn, your father was flayed alive by Ramsey Bolton." The Lord only nodded in agreement. "And you Lord Karstark, swore an oath to House Stark when Ned became Lord. And you betrayed over a petty fight with King Robb, who is long burned." She sneered at the little Lord. 

"You are refusing the call of House Stark for what? Fear and petty grievances? Even I can feel it. Something dark and evil stirs in the Lands of Always Winter. Something that doesn't care for these squabbles and only wants one thing. Death to all." Lyanna paused then letting her words sink in. She glanced at Jon, whose eyes found hers and were shinning with thanks. 

"House Mormont remembers our oath. And the North remembers. Bolton is defeated and cast out. Jon did that. He did that for us. I don't care if he has Targaryen blood. Stark blood runs in his veins. Lyanna Stark's blood. And from what I have heard, there was no kinder nor fiercer Lady of the North. He is my King from this day, to his last." Many shouted their approval.

"Lady Mormont speaks harsh but truly. My son died for Robb Stark, our young Wolf and King. You know you have my fealty, Jon Stark. You avenged the Red Wedding and made the Bolton's pay. The South will fear you. Our White Wolf. Our King in the North!" Manderly shouted his sword held high. All a stood, drawing their swords, shouting for Jon. Who stood straight and tall on the dais of his house. Their cries echoed into the storm raging outside of Winterfell. The doors burst open and for a moment Jon hoped to see Eilonwy but it was young Lord Balckwood, returned with a small troop. A hulking figure in tow. 

"King Jon, may I present master smith Mott. Here by request." Brynden said. Sansa had stood up her face flushing at the sight of a battle worn Brynden. The bursies and cuts that marred his visible flesg. She hadn't realized she cared for the young Lord until seeing him in this state. The realization both shocked and confused her. 

The hulking figure pulled back his hood. A full face with a dark beard looked at everyone, his piercing blue eyes glancing at Jon. Murmurs whispered through the hall. He was the spitting image of a very young Robert Baratheon. Though his huge arms were toned by years of smithing but his over all figure was a pure Baratheon trait. Those details had not escaped Brynden either. He was sure that was why Eilonwy had requested he be gathered up and suggested that he had many uses. Brynden's eyes scanned the table but Jon gave a small shake of his head. Brynden frowned but was caught by the image Sansa created. Her cheeks flushed with a thick blush, so that her cheeks nearly matched her flaming hair. Her blue eyes sparkled as she looked at him and for the first time, Brynden felt an odd stirring in his chest. 

"Gendry?!" Came Arya's shocked voice. When their eyes met, a smile split his serious face. She rushed into his arms and he gladly scooped her up. 

"Well now," he murmured to her. "You survived after all." She punched him playfully and pulled him to the King's table. Where they sat and talked about all that had passed since parting ways. Gendry's eyes grew ever wider as Arya told her tale. 

"Eat and drink, people of the North. For tomorrow we have things to discuss." Jon called out as he sat down. He keep his eye on the door but Eilonwy did not come.

***  
The next two days were tedious at best. So many of the Houses had petty grievances with the other and no one wanted to agree on anything other than the fact that he was now King. 

"My Lords and Ladies!" He called out. "While your grievances are important to you, there is a bigger issue of the Walker army that will be heading this way. Those of us who have been North of the Wall have seen them with our own eyes. Fought them and barely survived. But not with out taking heavy losses." Karstark sneered at Jon but he chose to ignore it. 

"And how can we protect ourselves from this ancient evil, King Jon?" Came Karstark's response. Every word was dripping with challenge and Jon had half a mind to obliged him. 

"If my Lord had been listening instead of putting forth petty complaints and plotting, he would have heard the the beasts are vulnerable to dragonglass and Valyrian steel. Hence the presence of young master Mott." Manderly nodded toward Gendry, who was talking animatedly with Arya. Kastark turned his murderous gaze toward Manderly but made no move to stand against him. Manderly smiled his most sweet smile and took a drink of his meade. 

"How, my Lord will we arm this militia meant to protect us?" Asked Lord Cerywn more politely. Jon sighed and again explained that a small ship had been sent to gather the needed supplies. 

"Have we word from that ship? Any sign that they had not be captured?" Karstark added snidely. Jon was half way down the steps to teach the Karstark's another lesson when the door burst open and in marched a snow covered group carrying a dozen chests between them. The leader of the group carried a tightly wrapped bundle, which was tossed with a loud clang on to table before Jon. The snow covered leader with drew the hood of a hauntingly familiar cloak and revealed Eilonwy's striking face with wind reddened cheeks. She smile was blinding as she motioned for the group to open the trunks. One by one each chest was opened to reveal glittering stone that refracted the fire light in the most alluring fashion. The Hall feel into a hushed silence as Eilonwy found Karstark's gaze and gave him a glare that could freeze any grown warrior in their tracks. 

"I also have another gift for you, my King." She flung back the wrapped parcel and hefted one of the seven swords above her head. "Seven Valyrian steel blades recovered by House Targaryen and hidden in Dragonstone." Jon was on his feet, hands hovering over the grand long swords in awe. His near shinning eyes looked up at Eilonwy, hefting Blackfyre over her head, her eyes daring anyone to speak out against him again. 

"Is that satisfactory enough, Lord Karstark?" She challenged, her eyes liquid fire as she stabbed the sword through the table mere inches from Karstark's hand. He jumped back with a shout of alarm. 

"And you are?" Lady Mormont asked, though she had a good idea of this fierce Lady's identity. Eilonwy turned to the young Lady and inclined her head slightly. 

"I am Eilonwy, Lady of the North." The silence in the room was deafening.


	25. Of Timing and Announcements

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is another chapter my dear readers. One step closer to the end. Any guesses as to Eilonwy's power or condition?! The next chapter is in the works, more answers are coming. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Chapter XXIV

The silence rang in Eilonwy's ear as all eyes searched her. She had to resist the urge to squirm under the intense scrutiny. Thankfully her cheeks were already red from the wind chill. She looked at each Lord or Lady as her eyes wandered the Hall. 

"Well, my Lady," Lord Manderly approached her with a smile on his face. "It seems that you have arrived just in time." The rest of the crew had begun to defrost, the servants had appeared to disrobe the now soggy sailors. The coats were spirited away and the weary travelers sat down with bowls of hot stew. Eilonwy shrugged off Jon's water and snow laden cloak, handing it to Maddy who was eager to see the EIlonwy was alright. Her blood stained leathers were revealed and Maddy let out a sharp gasp of shock. Eilonwy let out a soft curse. In her haste to return to Winterfell, she had forgotten about the blood. Jon's eyes grew wide with horror as he searched her exposed skin for a grievous wound. She surely had one to produce such blood amounts. 

"Lord and Ladies of the North, as you can see I am a bit of a mess right now. I will excuse myself to clean up and return when I am more presentable." She smiled as best as she could, in hopes to ease tensions that seemed to have risen. Even Lord Karstark had paled a bit. Eilonwy bowed her head slightly and left the hall, headed for the chambers she and Jon shared. Maddy rushed behind her, followed closely by a few other maids. 

"My Lady?!" the alarm was clear in Maddy's voice as they quickly stripped her of her leathers and underclothing. Soon she was in not but her skin. Blood had dried in patches across her arms and stomach, across her thighs and back. It had been a hellish price for using her powers for half a day, it had taken all of her will to not cry out, alerting the crew. Some of the blood, at least on her leathers was from the Lannister body she had to leave behind. Maddy and the other's quickly washed her off, checking rather thoroughly for wounds. Their eyes growing steadily wider as they found none. 

"How?" asked one fo the maids, her eyes owl large as they took in the scars of Eilonwy's body but no current wounds. 

"Balance," was all Eilonwy said to them before heading into the wash room to rinse out her hair. Eilonwy turned her head over the tub and Maddy helped her scrub her hair quickly. She was sure Jon was worried sick by now but he had to stay in the Hall. There was a furious pounding on the door and a few of the maids that had started to clean her leathers let out startled screams. Maddy quickly braided Eilonwy's hair and helped her slip into a dark green gown with brown fur trimmings. Eilonwy emerged to find Tormund standing in the doorway, looking agitated. 

"Eilonwy?" He stood straighter as she exited the wash room. She looked whole and unharmed to him, albeit a bit paler than normal. He reached out to her and she slid her hand into his. He starled because her hand was ice cold. 

"I am alright, Tormund." She insisted but he knew better. He had heard stories of those who could wield magicks when he was but a child. People born with an intimate connection to nature and the skies.People who could essentially borrow magicks from the world for a period of time. But those people had to pay a price for using the magicks. That price was never talked about above hushed tones, like to speak of it would bring it upon oneself. Tormund had not met such a person in all his years, nor had his father. Yet at this moment, Tormund knew that he was standing face to face with one. It was something he had always suspected, with her commanding presence and allure. With a new respect for her, he pulled her into the safety and warmth of his arms. 

"Jon is worried." He said, leading her back to the Hall were there was surely an interesting conversation happening. Eilonwy smiled mostly to herself but Tormund didn't miss the sparkle in her eyes. 

"I am sure he is." Was all she said as they made their way slowly back to everyone. 

***  
"Well, that was a hell of an introduction." Lady Mormont chirped before retaking her seat. Ser Davos and his crew were too busy eating and warming their bodies to comment. But Jon, well Jon was sick with worry. She had been covered in so much blood. His eyes met Tormund's from across the Hall and the free folk quickly ducked out to check on Eilonwy. All of the Stark's were concerned about her. If she were to fall, who would tend her? It started Sansa thinking. She was no warrior, nor did she want to be. But a healer? Maybe ... 

"So now that we have the steel and the draongglass, how do we arm our men." Karstark asked, attemping to pull the sword from his table. Grunting in fustration as it would not budge. 

"That is why Master Gendry is here, Lord." Arya said, turning into the conversation. The hulking mass in question stood then, gripped the sword with one huge hand and wrenched it free of the table with seeming ease. Then with a gentleness that many doubted he possessed, his fingers skimmed over the blade. His eyes dancing over the blade after his fingers as he walked toward a chest of dragonglass. With all eyes on Gendry, he picked up a heftier piece of glass and examined it with the same care he had the blade. 

"I will have to try a few things, but I have an idea." The smile on his face gave Jon a hopeful feeling that he had needed. Eilonwy and Tormund entered then, silently from a corner door. She slipped mostly unseen to Jon's side and sat down next to Sansa. Jon breathed a sigh of relief to have her back at Winterfell with him. He could not foresee any reason for her to have to part ways with him again anytime soon. For that he sent a silent thanks to the Old Gods. The rest of the meals were brought in then and it gave Jon just the reprieve he needed. The Hall filled with quiter chatter as the Lords and Ladies discussed things at their own tables. Jon's hand found Eilonwy's almost on instinct under the table and he too was shocked at how cold her hands were. 

Eilonwy felt the warmth of Jon's hand close around hers and a sigh escaped her lips before she could stop it. She felt the tension in Jon's body ease as their skin made contact but she could feel his concern for how cold she was. She squeeze his hand with her normal strength and that seemed to ease his mind a little. She had no doubt that he would question her extensively once they were alone. She would answer all the questions he asked of her. 

The bowl of hot stew in front of her was so inviting yet at the same time her stomach rolled at the thought of eating anything. Eilonwy frowned at herself, what was happening to her body? The repayment had been a lot rougher on her than normal but she had assumed that it was because she had borrow so much power or gone so deep into the past. Not to mention to awful seasickness she had suffered. Eilonwy picked up her spoon and opted for some of the broth rather than the chunks. It tasted divine compared to the dry stores they had been eating on the ship, not that she had been eating much anyway along that journey. 

"Are you feeling alright?" Jon asked and Eilonwy for a moment felt like cursing his observant nature. 

"A bit worse for wear," She admitted softly. "Apparently I do not have sea legs." Jon blinked a few times at her and than roared with laughter. Eilonwy felt a blush creeping up her cheeks as many eyes turned toward them. 

"Hilarous, Jon. Ser Davos felt the same way." They glanced at the man in question. "He said it was a relief to find that I was not good at something." Jon stifled his laughter that time, thankfully. 

"You really did have perfect timing." He murmured to her, leaning closer to her ear. His lowered voice sent a wanton shiver down her spine, pooling in liquid fire just below her belly. 

"I could feel your need from the sea." She admitted, turning her head slightly to feel the brush of his lips across her cheek. "I pushed Ser Davos and the crew rather hard. The promise of hot food softened the pace a bit." Eilonwy's eyes drifted over the full hall, many merry faces turning red with an ale blush, two faces stood out. Lady Mormont, whose dark eyes shined out of a pale face that seemed to hold a permanent scowl. And Lords Karstark, who looked as though he would like to murder all present. Eilonwy frowned. She knew that Robb had caused a rift between the two Houses but the Lord's face was saying it ran deeper than that. 

"I only hope I made the most of my timing. I know they doubt, Jon." She gently kissed his cheek and went back to eating her broth. He nodded, they did indeed. But they would learn. 

"You made an impression." Sansa whispered to them. "Lord Manderly has also been weaving tales of your exploits." Eilonwy tensed and glanced at the laughing face of Lord Manderly. Idly she wondered what game he was playing at. Making her grand to the Northern families, how did that benefit him? Eilonwy's stomach turned tortuously. She gripped the edge of the table, making her knuckles pop and turn white. Jon frowned at her hand and his eyes drifted to her face. 

"Peppermint?" He asked. She only nodded and he waved for Maddy to get her leaves. 

"I guess the sea is still taking its toll on me." She tried to laugh it off. It was no good to look weak or sick in front of the Northern families. The sound of clinking metal drew everyone's attention. Lord Manderly stood, drawing all eyes to his massive frame. 

"Now seems as good a time as any to begin this," he called out. Eilonwy and Jon visibly stiffened, as did Rickon for some odd reason. "In an effort to continue this budding country I have proposed an alligence between my house and that of our new King's." Eilonwy felt her insides twist painfully again. Jon's hand clenched down on hers to the point of pain. 

"In these uncertain times, none can align houses better that a marriage. I have spoken to the young Stark and he has graciously agreed." Both Jon and Eilonwy frowned. They had talked with the Lord but no conclusions had been made. Suddenly Rickon stood, looking more regal than he ever had. The leathers of his breast plate gleamed in the darkness. His hand clenched the hilt of his sword as he descended the stairs to stand before Lord Manderly, who gestured behind him. A younger girl stepped forward. Her bright blonde hair was dyed an unnatural green and thickly braided to lay over her shoulder. Her eyes the same color and carrying the same sharpness of the Lord himself. Lord Manderly took their hands with such a gentleness that Eilonwy had felt for herself. He joined their hands and raised them a loft. 

"When these two come of age, their union will bless us all." Manderly smiled warmly at the two children and Jon was stunned. So much so that he had released Eilonwy's hand to stand up. 

"May the Gods, Old and New bless your union." Jon echoed the words he had heard uttered by Lord and Kings before him. Many cheered both in good wishes, some in drunkness. Only Lord Karstark did not make a sound. Eilonwy made a mental note, this Lord needed a lesson. 

The night wore on, many drinks and meals later the Lords and Ladies began to retire. Thankfully the peppermint had help to settle Eilonwy's stomach, which made sitting through the revelry easier. Eilonwy stood next to Jon as Lady Mormont approached their table. 

"I must retire my King. Lady Eilonwy, it has been a singular experience." The young Lady bowed to each of them and they in turn bowed to her. "I look forward to seeing what else you have in store for us." The half smile that she gave them before departing had Eilonwy grinning back. She liked the little Lady of Bear Island. Each of the Lords and Ladies said their good nights and retired soon after. Before too long, the Hall held only the Stark's and their friends. 

"I wanted to tell you, Jon." Rickon said but Jon was already shaking his head. Jon pulled Rickon tightly into his arms. 

"We all had a mind in this." Sansa admitted. Jon looked up at his family with shinning eyes, he opened his arms to all of them. Eilonwy felt a strong hand on her shoulder. She turned to see Tormund and Brienne. 

"They decided that Jon deserved happiness." Brienne said, watching the Starks hold each other together. "He is better with you by his side, Eilonwy." She felt herself blushing, not realizing that their relationship had been so obvious.

"We all have seen it. You above all can speak to him, give him reason and caution patience. Even old Manderly saw it." Tormund agreed. "But the North need a marriage to solidify it." Eilonwy could feel tears pricking her eyes as she let the full weight of what just happened sink into her mind. There ... There was a chance. She hadn't foreseen this but Gods she had hoped.

"Thank you." Jon's voice was muffled. "Thank you my family." Eilonwy was frozen to the spot. So much love. There was so much love between them. Jon's glittering eyes looked up at her and suddenly she felt drawn, drawn to them. Before she knew what was happening, she was being crushed into the arms of three Stark's. 

"By all the Gods," she whispered. She had never known such love and sacrifice was possible inside a human heart. But she felt her about to burst, a fire glowing in her belly. For swear there, in the arms of these people, she would pay whatever price to save them. To give them the North they deserved. 

***  
Jon closed the door to their room softly. The moon was probably high in the sky but all they could see was falling snow. As the latch clicked softly, Jon and Eilonwy turned to face each other, a silence filling up between them. Jon looked at her, she was slightly skinner than he remember but if the seasickness had been hard on her, it was expected. She looked pale but not ill. Her dark hair seemed darker now that Winter had blocked out the moon. But her eyes, her eyes still reflected the fire light. Burning into him. Slowly he approached her, almost afraid she was just a dream. She dropped her arms to her side, her breathing quickened. 

"Eilonwy," he whispered her name like a prayer. His arm circled her waist, while his other cradled the back of her head so gently. 

"Jon," she whispered as his lips closed around hers. They clung to each other, hope blossoming in their hearts. Eilonwy had fought so hard against this treacherous feeling growing in her heart as the pieces all fell into place. For the first time, Eilonwy gave into the warmth spreading in her body, the hope causing her nerve endings to tingle. Her hands tangled in his unruly hair, he pulled back, cupping her cheek with hope gleaming in his eyes. 

"Don't say it, Jon." She whispered against him. "Not yet." He nodded and pulled her closer, wishing that they could become one. 

They made the night theirs, knowing there was danger still out there. Knowing they still had obstacles in their way. But tonight was theirs and they made it count. 

***  
Jon traced lazy circles on her back after they had exhausted themselves. Goosebumps rose on her flesh as his calloused pads drew circular designs on her back. She let out a soft giggle as he glanced over her ribs. 

"Tell me how you knew where the swords were hidden." Jon asked and Eilonwy knew she couldn't say no to him, not for long anyway. She took a deep breath and rolled into him, their chests touching. She brush a piece of curling hair behind his ear. 

"Your hair has gotten longer." She mused, he smiled at her, curling a piece of her hair around his finger. "I knew that the Targaryen line had searched for all the lost swords. I hoped that they had found them." She said as Jon rolled them over settling between her thighs again. 

"But how did you lknow they were beneath the Seven?" Jon pressed closer to her. She signed but surrendered to him. 

"There is magick in this world, Jon. An under current to all things living, a connection to all things passed, and a window into all things to come." She began to explain. "I ... I..." She paused, looking into his eyes. Searching, would this be too much? 

Jon could sense her hesitation, he carefully cradled her face in his palms. He kissed her softly but thoroughly. He knew she was bidding something from him. A gift she possessed that she was worried would frighten him. Perhaps it had frightened many before. 

"Go on," he encouraged. Eilonwy nodded, biting her lower lip in fear. She took a deep breath and nodded against his hands. 

"It is not an easy thing, but I can ... Access those magicks. I can see and do somethings that others can not." Jon took her hand and placed it over his steadily beating heart. 

"Like pull someone back from Death." His voice was soft. She nodded, feeling the beat under her palm. 

"It wasn't your time, Jon. It is not so simple. You were not meant to die there, nor then. That is how I could pull you back." She was having a hard time finding the right words. "There is a balance Jon, that must always be maintained. If you take, you must give back." Jon looked at some of the scars over her body. 

"There is a price that must be paid when you tap into deep magicks. Magicks must be repaid. Balance must be kept." His thumb traced over one vicious scar across her shoulder. 

"I thought all of these were from Walker battles." Jon mused. 

"That one is," she confirmed that the vicious looking scar on her shoulder was from a not-ice blade. 

"Which one is mine?" He asked. She smiled and moved one of his hand over her own heart. 

"I didn't have to pay a price for you Jon. The Gods where not ready for you to leave this place. So aside from being tired as I nursed your body back to health and coaxed your mind back to the living world." Eilonwy playfully pinched his chest. Jon laughed heartily at her playfulness. 

"The swords?" Jon asked and suddenly Eilonwy's eyes clouded with remembered pain. Jon felt instantly bad for asking, so instead he kissed her deeply. "Whatever price, Eilonwy. It will save us."


	26. Of the Price to be Paid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay my lovelies! I stayed awake for a long time to get this one out, it was stirring in my brain. And I love where this story has gone and what it is building into! It may take me a little while get the next chapter put together, I have some research to do. About what you ask? Well, you will just have to wait or guess. Comments and questions are welcome!
> 
> Enjoy!

Chapter XXV

Eilonwy felt the ice cold hand close around her throat, the dead fingers digging into her flesh. She clawed uselessly at the decaying arm, chuncks of dead flesh coming away underneath her hands. The cold was piercing her skin in painful sparks. She opened her mouth to scream but only a pitiful horse cry came out. The Walker holding her scowled in what she could only think was disgust made his dried lips peel back from his lips in a scowl. He snapped her neck with ease. Eilonwy saw flashes, the North beyond the wall covered in white snow and an ever moving army of the dead, the Wall, Castle Black, and the intense flash of three pairs of glowing blue eyes. 

Eilonwy sat bolt up in the bed, a scream wrenching from her throat. She clenched the sheet to her chest, her heart beating wildly. Jon launched out of bed, dagger in hand. His body was posed to fight but as the sleep cleared from his eyes and mind, he realized that they were safe in his chambers Winterfell. The fire had burned low, embers casting a red light in the room. Jon threw a few pieces of wood, bringing the flames back to roaring life. Eilonwy was still clenching the sheets to her chest, her wild eyes darting around the room. Jon put the dagger on the fire mantle and sat down in front of Eilonwy, taking her shoulders firmly in his hands. His thumbs danced over her skin, his rough pads glancing over the scars there. 

"Eilonwy?" His voice was soft, reaching to her in the darkness of her vision. Jon knew that scream, he had heard it once before when she had seen his death. It still haunted him during his darkest nights without her. 

"Eilonwy!" He shook her a little bit. He watched her eyes focus on him, searching every bit of his features. Her eyes grew soft and shinned with tears. He pulled her into his arms, holding her close. She gripped his bare back, her nails digging into his skin. He didn't mind the painful bite of them pushing into his skin. 

"What did you see?" He asked and for a moment, Eilonwy marveled at his blind trust in her. But her vision slammed back into her mind. 

"Walkers, three of them. They are coming." She whispered into his chest. He pulled back, taking her face in his hands. 

"When will they be here?" He asked, her shinning eyes focused on his face. 

"Now," her whisper sent more of a chill through his blood than her scream had. They locked eyes for the briefest of moments before they launched into action. Jon pulled on his black leathered pants before ripping open the door and calling for the alarm to be raised. In a few moments the halls were vibrating with the ringing bell. Eilonwy had just finished braiding her hair when Jon tossed her the sword and then daggers. They were running down the hall toward the Great Hall, strapping on weapons. They burst through the doors and were greeted with confused and angry stares. 

"Why have you awaken us so early, my King?" Came Lady Mormont's voice. 

"Walkers," Eilonwy stated simply. 

"How? I thought we still had time." Lord Manderly asked, coming closer to Eilonwy. None but Jon and Tormund had seen her so armed or dangerous. 

"We still do, there are three." Eilonwy said, sliding her dragonglass dagger into its sheath. 

"A scouting party." Lord Reed concluded, the same thought Jon and Eilonwy had shared. 

"So what do we do?" Asked a Lady, whose name Eilonwy didn't know. Fearful eyes looked to her, apparently they were beginning to believe Manderly's tales of her. She squared her shoulders and stood taller. 

"I face them." She said simply. Jon felt his heart stop, he couldn't stop himself from grabbing her hand. She turned toward him, a sadness in her eyes. 

"Not alone, Eilonwy." He almost begged. He didn't care the the North was watching. 

"I must, Jon. You can not come. The North can not loose you." She said simply, her hand gently cupping his cheek. 

"There are a dozen volunteers, my Lady." Reed said, Eilonwy turned to the door to see twvele men strapping up. 

"All of whom are neither properly armed, nor trained Lord Reed." She pointed out. The doors burst open, Gendry walked in carried the seven swords, which he had yet to smelt down to reforge and a handful of dragonglass daggers he had made last night. She looked toward the men, to Jon. 

"Fine," she said knowing there was not time to argue. She turned toward Jon, kissing him softly. "Making sure they are watching." She whispered before tearing herself out of his arms. She ran for the door, vaguely aware that three others had joined their small force. 

"To the wall! Archers!" Jon shouted and the Hall erupted into chaos. Eilonwy and her troops rushed for the stables, grabbing swords and daggers as they went. 

"We will fight in pairs, guard each others backs." She swung up into the saddle and spurred it out of the gates. Her troops followed, the gates slammed closed and barred behind them. Eilonwy glanced over her shoulder to see the Northern families gathering on the wall over looking the fields beyond Winterfell. Then she saw a familiar face among the troops. Brynden Blackwood. He rode up next to her. 

"No, Brynden." She had begun to say but he was shaking his head. 

"I am with you." He stated simply. She nodded and drove her horse harder toward the field. She could feel her magicks stirring in her blood, slowly rising in her. She pulled her horse to a stop a few hundred yards from Winterfell. She dismounted quickly and turned toward the North. She could see the forming shadows through the storm. She felt Brynden come to stand next to her. She handed him her Valyrian dagger, he nodded his thanks. 

"Back to back," she said, her voice firm and steady. "When they come, stay back to back." They paired off, eight pairs. Eilonwy watched as the shadows took a more human form. She drew her sword and held it aloft in a maracbe salute as the figure began to materialize. 

Jon stood on the wall, watching in horror as the Walkers emerged. They were taller than the average man. Their skin was sunken, taking on a mummified look. They wore no shirts nor shoes. Their pants seemed to be made of some type of leather. They each carried a long sword of not-ice and a dagger in their belts. He could hear the collective intake of breath from the gathered Nobel's as the creatures materialized out of the storm. Jon looked from the gathered warriors to the beasts approaching them. 

"Nock!" He cried out. The combined archers knocked their arrows, aiming for the Walkers. "Loose!" He called out. A hail of black flew into the storm. They could hear the hollow thumps as arrows landed in the Walkers. But they didn't slow. It was as if the arrows didn't phase them. 

"Nock!" He called out again. The horrored murmurs were rising from the gathered crowd. "Loose!" He called out, taking aim himself. He knew it was useless but he needed the Nobel's to understand what they were facing. Three didn't look like much but he had seen what one Walker could do. 

Eilonwy watched as Jon loosed three volleys toward the Walkers and didn't even phase them. Eilonwy held herself still as they approached, breaking into a run. She knew what they were up against, they didn't. She gripped her sword harder, feeling Brynden's shoulder against hers. 

"Don't let them touch you!" She called out. They braced themself as the walkers drew closer. Seven held up shields, creating a wall. Eilonwy braced her shoulder against Brynden's shield just in time. The Walkers crashed into their line, driving them backward, knocking one pair off their feet. The Walker tore them apart before they could scream. Eilonwy jumped in slicing the Walkers arm off with her blade. It staggered backward with an unearthly howl. She tossed the sword to Brynden and the dagger to another. And the battle begun. She, Brynden and another pair took on the injured Walker. But it was no less fierce for being without an arm. Eilonwy would thrust or guard while the others attacked. She heard a scream from over her shoulder, one Walker had a solider by the throat. The man crawled uselessly at it's arm. The Walker snapped his neck and reached for the next, who was frozen in fear. Her distraction cost her, she felt the icy bite of a blade graze her ribs. She cried out as Brynden pulled her back. With a fatal swing the Walker beheaded their two soldiers. Brynden brought down his mighty swords, taking the Walker's head from its shoulder. A howl rang from its body before it splintered, the percussion blowing Brynden and Eilonwy off their feet. She landed well, blood pouring for her side, Brynden did not. She rushed forward to defend him for an on coming Walker, deflecting a killing blow. She heard another scream of alarm. 

"Brynden!" He glanced over her shoulder as she deflected another blow. He dashed off the help the surviving troops. Eilonwy felt the Walkers hand close around her throat, lifting her off her feet. Eilonwy felt her magicks, hot and liquid flash to the surface. She buried her sword in the Walkers chest, grabbing its forearm. It cried out in shock as smoke began to rise from its dead flesh. Eilonwy forced more magicks into her skin, a blue glow burned under her skin. 

"You made a mistake touching me." She gritted out. The Walker dropped to its knees, Eilonwy released her grip on its forearm, holding her palms out. Blue fire erupted from her palms, burning the beast as it screamed. Eilonwy turned her attentions to the other when the Walker had stopped screaming. Only four were left, Brynden was fighting bravely against the Walker. Eilonwy feeling the blaze roaring in her skin moved toward the Walker's back. She grabbed the thing around the neck before it could take another life. The Walker screamed and tried to reach her. She gritted her teeth, pushing more fire into her hands and snapped its neck. Suddenly Ghost launched out of no where and took the body to the ground, tearing it apart. It collasped into a pile of flames, blue giving way to normal orange as she pulled back the magicks. She staggered as the magicks fully left her system. Brynden was staring at her with wide eyes. She grabbed a handful of Ghost's fur, inhaling the scent of the wild. 

"How?" He came closer to her, holding out his hand to steady her. She leaned against him, only then did he notice the pale color of her face and the blood pooling underneath her in the snow. 

"Gather the swords! And back to Winterfell!" Brynden ordered, scooping her up and swing on to the nearest horse. He rode like the devils were still behind him. Eilonwy could feel her blood leaking out, she pushed harshly against her side. Pain lanced through her system. The gates swung open and Jon was waiting, Brynden passed her into his waiting arms. 

"The infirmary!" Brynden shouted, they all took off running through the deep snow. Maddy and the others were already waiting. They stripped her armor off of her, revealing a gapping gash across the left ribs and side. Eilonwy bit back a scream as Jon tore her cotton undershirt open. She could feel the magicks rising, coiling around her. 

"Oh Gods," she whispered. Jon looked up from the wound to her eyes. Fear danced there and it scared him. "The price." She managed to whisper before her body arched painfully off the table. Eilonwy's whole body clenched in an effort to keep from screaming, a pained whimper escaped through her teeth. Maddy and the other's looked terribly frightened. 

"We must stop the bleeding!" Cried a strong voice, shocking everyone back into action. Jon turned to find Sansa, her hair pulled back and sleeves rolled up, carrying hot water and Eilonwy's healing supplies. He looked at her, awed and surprised. 

"I've been watching." Was all she said before setting to work. Jon was pulled out of the way by Tormund, who had barred the doors. Eilonwy's body relaxed but her breathing was erratic and fast. Her fists remained clenched, which told Jonnthis wasn't over. With a numb mind, John watched as Sansa and the girls patched Eilonwy's side and cleaned her skin. But they couldn't slow the blood that flowed freely from her nose. She coughed, blood splattering with force. 

"I don't understand." Sansa was beginning to look a bit frantic. "All I saw was this wound!" Her hands were over the bandaged area. 

"She is paying the price." Tormund said, crossing his arms. Confused eyes found him. He coughed uncomfortably, shifting from side to side. Brienne put a steadying hand on his shoulder. 

"Price?" Jon echoed. Eilonwy had told him the basics, the very basics about who she was. And he was okay with it. But this? If this was the price she paid every time for using magicks ... He felt so helpless as her body arched up against the table again and scream ripped from her throat this time as her body twisted. 

"There are legends among the Free Folk. The was a race of people born who were more connected the under currents of this world. It was said that in times of need they could call on those currents and wield them to help the people." Tormund explained. John ushered the maids out to go get his chambers ready. He was going to carry Eilonwy up there, he couldn't stand to have her down here in pain, the least he could was make her comfortable. "But those people who could wield also bore the burden of repaying the currents." 

"Repayment?" Sansa asked. "How?" But Tormund was shaking his head. 

"It was never talked about. It was feared that to talk about it was to invite it." He explained. "Now that I see it, I understand." But by Sansa's frown she didn't. But Jon did. 

"This suffering is personal." Jon said as Eilonwy broke out into a sweat. There was a commotion outside the door. Tormund and Brienne opened the doors and the remaining troops that had survived flooded in. Many injured and needing help. Jon looked at Sansa and she nodded. Brynden supported an injured solider and looked at the group. Jon quickly scooped up Eilonwy's pale and relaxed body. The Jon pushed passed the gathered Nobel's, many worried faces took in Eilonwy's. Sblood was spattered across her face and in her hair, her body limp and very pale. 

"My King?" Called Manderly.

"Not now, my Lords!" Jon called over his shoulder.

"Will she be alright?" Lyanna called, Jon phased at the corner and looked at his gathered Nobel's. 

"I don't know." Jon disappeared up the stairs. 

Brynden helped the solider one to the bloodied table. He took in Sansa, her blood covered healer's smock, her hair pulled back from her face. He took her hands, which had Eilonwy's cooling blood on them. 

"How can I help?" Sansa could fight the smile the spread across her lips. She nodded to the supplies and herbs. 

"Get comfortable, we may be here a while. Are you injured?" She asked as he stripped off his armor. 

"No, thanks to Lady Eilonwy." He murmured sadly. Sansa nodded, looking after Jon as he dissapeared around the corner. 

***  
Eilonwy came awake feeling like she had been run over by a carriage or something worse. Her body ached everywhere, her head was pounding and every time she moved her ribs screamed in pain. But she was in a soft bed and it was warm. She smelled peppermint and lavender, could feel the tingling cool on her chest and neck. She shifted and felt a solid body beside her. She opened her eyes and found Jon looking at her. He was propped up on his elbow, rubbing lazy circles of ointment on her chest. 

"Hello Jon," she whispered. Her throat was raw from screaming. He gave her a pained smile and gave her a glass of water. She sat up very very slowly as her sides screamed out in pain. Jon gently rubbed her back as she sat up. 

"Never again, Eilonwy." He said, she turned around to face him. "I know we need fire but there has to be another way." She gave him a pained smile. 

"We would need something as strong as dragon's fire, Jon." Eilonwy stated softly.

"I saw that. But this price, Eilonwy." His body shivered. If he thought the scream she uttered when she was ripped from sleep earlier that morning. But the images of her body twisted in pain, her back arched to the breaking point as she screamers in a pain he could never touch. A pain her could never stop. She looked at him, gently patting his side. A popping in the fire drew her attention, green flames licked up the wood and Eilonwy was struck with an idea. 

"One more time, Jon." She said, a smile pulling her at her lips. "I will have to pay one more time." He frowned at her, sitting up to take her hand in his. He was shaking his head. 

"What for, Eilonwy? What could be so important that you have to suffer like that again." Jon asked, watching the fire burning hot in the fireplace, casting a warm glow on Eilonwy's still chilled skin.

"The price is only as high as the magicks I use." She couldn't explain, not really. Jon still looked doubtful but she knew this was the right move. Just like finding the blades. 

"It will be like the blades, Jon." He was still frowning. "We need a recipe and instructions."


	27. Of Words and Whispers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay dear readers, this is more of a filler chapter. Their are some important things said and done. Mostly there had to be some time between when Jon ordered supplies for Eilonwy's project and when they arrived. Here it is! 
> 
> Enjoy!

Chapter XXVI

After Eilonwy had explained her desire, Jon knew it was brilliant but he still doubted. The thing she was looking to do was a closely guarded secret that many believed was lost. But still he had the forge built for her outside of Winterfell, since there was nothing inside that could handle what she was trying to do. His only request was that she wait for a little while, heal and recover. He could see the toll on her body using the magicks had done. She was loosing muscle and she seemed to be constantly pale. The hardest thing for him to find was the large clay pots Eilonwy had requested. Over the next few weeks he watched as Eilonwy's strength and color returned, her food consumption seemed to double over the next few days, like her body was making up for the missed meals at sea. She carried a glow around her as her body healed, a glow Jon hadn't noticed before. And it pulled at his heart.

In the days that followed the Walker attack, Eilonwy could feel the eyes watching her. Some with fear clearly shining in them. She couldn't blame them for being afraid. But they had nothing to fear from her. She had done everything she could for the North and for the survival of the people of Westeros. Her palms still tingled from the amount of Soul Fire she had wielded, it had been the only way to stop the fallen from rising and the living from falling. Six had survived, herself included. Brynden still talked with her animatedly, thought it was most about the Lady Sansa and her healing hands. Eilonwy had been amazed to learn that it was Sansa who had bandaged her up. Clearly Sansa had been watching Eilonwy as she made her rounds in the infirmary, which was now empty. The injured were well on their way to healing. Eilonwy remembered the conversation with Jon, smiling as she headed toward the infirmary and her waiting student.

"Sansa?" Eilonwy looked up at Jon from their bed, clearly doubtful. He nodded, stirring the fire to keep the room warm and heat her chilled skin. 

"I swear by the Old Gods, it was Sansa that bound your ribs." He turned to her, fire light casting deep shadows across his bare torso. He had just returned from a meeting with the Nobel's, who he said where in a rightful panic. They had all grown up with the stories of Walkers but one had not been seen in over a hundred or more years. Now they were all faced with not only a thing from their childhood nightmares, but their only mortality. The fact that Brynden had felled one with a Valyrian blade did ease their minds a bit. But many held a fear in their hearts of Eilonwy now as well. She wielded a power that none had ever seen, not even Jon. Tormund had tried to put their minds at ease, telling the stories from his childhood. 

A race of healers and warriors, benevolent beings that existed only to protect life. For he was sure that Eilonwy was one of them. Lord Karstark's voice was the loudest, to banish her from the North. Lords Manderly, Reed, Blackwood, and many others where in favor of her staying. Stating simply that if she was to be a weapon, the North is where she belonged. That she had saved the Free Folk, as many as she could, she saved Jon, she was willing to give up so much for the North. Yes she was clearly dangerous but she had never harmed any of the Northern families. Karstark argued that she had harmed the Bolton's but Jon denied that. It was on his orders that Bolton house had been razed to the ground. Eilonwy had no part of that, in fact she had counseled against harming House Umber, like Rickon would have done. Besides, thew Bolton's had betrayed the North with their brutal tyranny.

"But why?" She asked, coming back to Sansa. Eilonwy felt her head pounding as she tried to sit up too fast. Jon pushed her gently back down to the pillows. 

"I asked after it was clear you were going to be alright." Jon sat beside her, gently running his hands threw her freshly cleaned hair. Maddy and Sophia had come earlier to change her dressing and bathe her, he was shooed out to the meeting with promises to come get him if things changed. Or if she took a turn for the worst.

"Sansa said that after you, after she ..." Jon frowned, not liking the memory of Eilonwy covered to the elbows in Sansa's blood. "She is tired of being useless, so she says. She has no desire into taken up a sword as Arya has done. But a healer? She liked the idea so she watched you closely while you tended to the injured." Eilonwy frowned. How had she not noticed? 

"I... I ..." But she could think of nothing to say. Jon took one of her hands in his, they were so different. His hand had thick, long but blunt fingers, dark hair dusting the backs of his hand. Thick hands, he always thought of them. Hers were slender, with long fingers and delicate looking nails. But he knew first hand the strength her hands concealed.

"I think it would be good for her." Jon continued, interlacing their fingers. His thumb rubbing a gentle circle below hers. "And you." He finished, eyes finding hers. Midnight black meeting honey gold. 

"Oh?" She said, a delicate eyebrow arched up. He smiled, white teeth flashing. 

"Yes, to teach one to heal. She will be a good student." Jon said, pushing a hand underneath her neck, massaging the base of her skull. She let out a delighted sigh. "To be surrounded by life sounds like an appealing notion, with such an ugly death on the way." She laughed and then regretted it. Jon chuckled with her. With Gendry currently drawing up ideas for the arms, the Valyrian steel and dragonglass safely in the vaults of his forge. The Nobel's had begun to see her value, though a fair few were terrified. Hope had begun to blossom in his heart that they would win this war. 

"Alright, Jon." Eilonwy agreed. "I will teach her." He grinned childishly at her and she smiled good heartedly at him. 

Eilonwy entered the infirmary, and found Sansa looking at the mix of her herbs, salves, and oils. The young Stark held out a tender hand, running her fingers across the labels. Eilonwy took a moment to admire Sansa, her long flame red hair braided down her back, her dark green gown with tied down the sleeves much like hers. The brown fur lined the neck of her gown, her pale skin had a health glow to it now. Her face full and flushed with the heat of the room. She had tied a cleaned healer smock over her dress. Eilonwy knocked on the door frame, causing Sansa to spun startled. Eilonwy smiled kindly at the younger woman. Sansa nodded to Eilonwy, an embarrassed flush creeping up her neck into her face. 

"Let's begin." Eilonwy entered the infirmary completely, holding her hand out to Sansa. 

***  
Jon was sitting at his normal table as the Nobel's continued to debate. Many had come around and were now casting out ideas with the blacksmith. It was not an easy task. The dragonglass was strong enough to with stand the fires of the forge, it was molten and easier to shape once it had been in the fires. Much like steel. But trying to arm hundreds, if not thousands of men with only seven blades worth of Valyrian steel to work with? It was proving difficult. Many of the Houses had already pledged men to the cause. They now understood the full weight of what was coming. The wights where easy enough to deal with, regular fire would burn their dried flesh like dry tinder. But the remaining Walkers ... They were the problem. And no one knew for sure how many there were. If not for Eilonwy and her fire, they may have wiped out the entire North. Jon felt his pulse thundering in his skull as the voices got louder and louder. How were they ever going to accomplish anything when the ruling bodies fought like little children? 

"Aha!" Cried Gendry, his deep voice vibrating through the hall. He grinned at Arya and Lady Lyanna as he held a design over his head. With a triumphant grin he approached Jon, handing him the parcel. Jon 's eyes danced over the plans, a smile creeping over his face. He looked up at the Master smith.

"Can you do it?" He asked. Gendry nodded, not boasting his skill but confident in it. 

"I may need an eighth blade, though my Lord." Gendry frowned. 

"Take mine." Came Eilonwy's soft voice from the side door. She walked in holding her own Valyrian long sword. "I have always had trouble wielding such a long blade." She placed it in Gendry's hand. 

"I imagine so, my Lady." He grinned down at her. "Carrying a blades that is as long as you are tall." Eilonwy let out a hearty laugh, tears glistened at the corners of her eyes. She playfully punched his arm.

"May it serve the North." Eilonwy said between the giggles. Jon marveled at her for a moment. In less than a fortnight, she had completely healed and most of her weight and muscle had returned. She skin was aglow, creamy in the light of the Hall. Her golden eyes shone with humor and good laughter that had been missing these passed moons. 

"It seems, my Lady Lyanna that you have a mind for weapons." Eilonwy said, nodding to the young Lady. Lyanna flashed a rare smile.

"Or perhaps I just see things from a different level. I think of blades I can wield, weapons fit more hands small as mine." She simply stated. 

"I have no doubt you will grow into such grand weapons." Eilonwy countered. 

"Perhaps but the future needs protecting before I can grow." Lyanna explained. The little Lady had thrown herself full heartedly into the battle planning and the North. Eilonwy was growing quite fond of the fiesty child. In all this room, she doubted that any Lord would stand against her and win. Her commanding presence alone made many think twice before engaging her. But Eilonwy didn't miss how she softened when ever Ser Davos was around, looking at him almost like a child would look at her father or beloved uncle. Eilonwy hoped that he had taken up his lessons again, perhaps even with the young Lady of Bear Island. Eilonwy knew that he missed the young Princess but she didn't have the heart to confirm what he was so afraid to admit. The death of a child always sent ripples through the currents of the world, especially a violent one. 

As the plans were approved and Eilonwy's sword given over to the cause, the mood of the Hall was greatly improving. The Nobel's, having committed their men had begun to leave, heading home to wait out the coming Winter. Hearts full of hope that Jon and Eilonwy could fulfill their promise to protect life and the North. Jon and Eilonwy would begin training the troops the next morning, Jon would continue drills while Eilonwy went to the infirmary to train all those who wanted to become battlefield healers. And all the while Eilonwy waited patiently for her spirit to recover from two magicks draws in less than a moon. She used her gifts sparingly in the past but with these dark times upon them, she had been using them more and more. The arrival of the scout Walkers meant that time was running out. She figured they had less than three full moons before the dead army arrived. But what really bothered her was how the Walkers had gotten over the Wall. It was supposed to contain such magicks, tied to the bloodlines of the North, that no dead could cross it without tearing it down. It was troubling. 

Eilonwy was drawn from her thoughts as Jon closed their chamber door. He rested his head against the door, taking a deep breath. The lines of his shoulders and back screamed tension. Eilonwy slowly moved toward him, running her hands down his back, under his tunic, and back up his bare skin. 

"What troubles you, Jon?" She asked, resting her forehead against the center of his back, her hands moving over his chest. Jon claped her hands beneath his tunic and took another deep breath. 

"I have refused a coronation." He said simply. Eilonwy made an understanding sound. "I told the Nobel's that until life was safe from the annihilation we face, there is no point in ceremony." She could see how that would cause an uproar amongst some of the families. 

"And?" She asked, knowing there was more. 

"Lord Karstark said that the North could not unite completely until there was a crown atop my head and a wife at my side." Jon continued. Eilonwy gritted her teeth, her arms tightening around him. 

"How has he not learned to hold his tongue yet?" She blurted out. Jon let out a soft chuckle. 

"Lady Lyanna asked the same thing. She asked how he could doubt who belonged on the throne of the North. How he could doubt our ability to protect the North. And that if she didn't know any better, he was sewing the seeds of doubt amongst the Nobel's on purpose." Eilonwy smiled, she had grown very fond of the fierce child whose loyalty to House Stark would never be questioned. 

"I see," Eilonwy said noncommittally. "Which of course caused another disagreement." Jon snorted, remember what happened. 

"Oh dare you, you insolent child!" Bellowed Karstark. But Lyanna was not phased, she stood out of her own chair and turned to face the outraged Lord. 

"It is no secret, my Lord, that you hold House Stark responsible for wrongs done to your family. That you openly rebelled against Robb, causing the North to divide and subsequently to fall into the hand of the Bolton's. A House you were the first to pledge fealty to." Lyanna simply stated the facts but Karstark's face grew darker and darker as her words rang in the Hall.

"He murdered my father!" The Lord screamed. The Hall grew deathly silent as all eyes watched the exchange. Jon, at a loss for words, simply stayed standing. 

"As i undsersatand it, your father was executed for betraying his King's orders." Lyanna said softly. The silence rang in Jon's ears as the Lord seemed to crumple. The Lord stormed out of the Hall and Lyanna watched him go with cold eyes. The meeting had continued, with the vast majority of the Nobel's agreeing to Jon's terms. He would have an official coronation, after the war was won. Marriage was not brpought up again. Jon had said ponce and only ponce that the engagement of Rickon Stark and Wylla Manderly should be sufficiant enough alliance. In the meantime, their declaration of fealty would have to be enough to keep the North a soild front. 

"News from the South says the Cersei has been released from by the Faith Militant, after participating in a walk of shame." Jon said, causing Eilonwy to flinch. She had some notion of the Faiths idea of a walk. "She has been in the locked in the castle with her maesters for two days now. It is said her trail will begin in two moons. All the trials are supposed to start then. Including the Tyrell heirs." Eilonwy could only imagine the choas in King's Landing right now. If not even the Queen or Queen Mother were safe from prosecution, what happened to the rest of the citizens? 

"Any news from Riverrun?" Eilonwy asked. She had not been in the council meetings for a few days per Jon's request to heal. 

"Edmure has written that the rebuilding has begun. He and his wife are well now, she is due within a few moons they think. He expressed his deepest gratitude that we came for him. He apologized for missing this first Gathering but promised to travel to Winterfell once Riverrun is secured against future attempts to take it. Ser Tully also wrote to express his thanks for the Northern support and troops. He said he was keeping them for the time being, each house was happy to lend over troops to help us. Since most of the Tully troops were wiped out during Robb rebellion and the Red Wedding." Jon informed her. She nodded, a smile on her face, he was getting the hang of being King like slipping into a shirt. "I wrote back to Lord Edmure and told him Winter was no time to travel with either a pregnant wife or new babe. His presence was always welcome here but his assurances of his fealty and protection of the Frey women and children was enough for me. I told him of the War coming and told him that after we win, I would make a trip down to see him and the Riverland people. I informed him of our deal with Lord Baelish and the fealty of the Vale. So he had none to fear from that front. I wished him well and wished for his wife to have a safe delivery, a strong babe." 

"Wonderful, Jon." She smiled. The Tully line had suffered nearly as much as the Stark's had, they deserved peace just as much. The news that the Lady Tully was well in her pregnancy was most welcome news. A new life budding in this darkness gave Eilonwy hope and a determination to keep the world safe for the future generations. 

"On a more interesting note, young Lord Blackwood has requested to stay here." Jon turned toward Eilonwy with his eyebrow raised suspiciously. She tried her best to feign innocence. 

"Oh, has he now?" She couldn't stop the smile on her lips. "Isn't that interesting." She murmured, Jon took her hands in his and lifted her chin up so he could read her eyes. 

"What do you know, woman?" He asked and Eilonwy couldn't keep back the grin any longer. She laughed and pulled away from him, shaking her head. 

"There is a young red haired Lady he wishes to get to know." Eilonwy informed him and his eyebrows shot up in surprise. 

"Sansa? Truly?" Eilonwy let out a fully bellied laugh. For all his brains, Jon still had a hard time seeing his younger cousins has adults. 

"Truly, Jon." She stated. "And Sansa has mentioned him a few time to me in the infirmary while I teach her about herbs." Jon looked truly baffled and it was an adorable look for him. 

"What else have I missed, Eilonwy?" He asked. "I have been so busy dealing with the Nobel's and worrying over you that I have been blind." Eilonwy giggled softly. 

"Oh don't judge yourself so harshly, Jon." She pushed him playfully. "Arya was very happy to see young Master Gendry." She observed and Jon nodded, beginning to think.

"Do you think she has an interest?" Jon asked, pulling Eilonwy to him. She made a thoughtful face. 

"I think she may when she is ready. She has much to come to terms with, Jon. The road has not been easy for any of you." She decided. The darkness in young Arya was more forceful than the light it takes to love someone. But here in Winterfell, surrounded with what was left of her family, she could heal. Much like Sansa had, whose gentle soul Eilonwy had worried over. Yet with Brienne's constant and comforting presence, Jon and Rickon welcoming her back, and being rid of what was left of Ramsey. As well as Jon's refusal to force her to marry Lord Baelish, she had begun to heal properly. 

"How did it come to this, Eilonwy?" Jon asked, suddenly saddened. Eilonwy looked at him, a question in her eyes. He looked around the chambers that used to belong to the long dead Ned Stark. So much had been lost for petty cruelty and brutish tyranny, imbred madness. 

"Times of darkness come and go, Jon." She whispered, taking his face in her hands. She gently rubbed her thumbs over his scruffy cheek. "That is just the way this world turns." 

"We suffer so that we may learn." Jon echoed her words from what felt like ages ago. So much had changed since he awoke in the weirwood cavern. He looked at her then, her eyes shinning with fire light, her hair unbraided and freely flowing down her back and over her shoulder. He took a handful of her silken strands and the base of her skull. 

"Choice," he said, clenching his hand in a fist. "You told me that is the most important gift the Gods gave us." She nodded as best as she could with his fist holding her head still. 

"I know you may not be ready to hear this, Eilonwy." Her eyes grew wider. "Or ready to know this, but it is something I have become more and more certain as every day passes." He paused, taking in all of her features. The soft curve of her cheek, the fullness of her lips, the fierce gleam in her eyes, the lushness of her softer body against his. 

"I love you, have since you brought me back to this world. And when we win this war," she opened her mouth but he gave a gently but firm tug on her hair. "When we win and the worlds is safe. I will marry you. Approval of the Nobels or not." Eilonwy felt her heart stop and then pick up speed. That was the first time he had voiced the feeling she could always see so clearly in his eyes. A feeling she surely shared but feared to express in words. Because there was a apart of her that was certain she would have to let him go. 

"Jon, I ..." She started to open her mouth to caution him against this choice. Even if the Nobels feared her, they would never accept her as Queen in the North. 

"It will happen, Eilonwy." He silenced any doubts she felt for the time being with a kiss that seared her very soul and made her toes curl. She balled her fists in his tunic, pulling him closer. He pulled back just enough to feel her fevered breaths against his face. 

"I love you, too." She whispered against his lips. Jon felt as if his heart might explode from the joy he felt. She had never said it, not to him. He could see the war in her eyes every time she watched him around the Nobels, the pain in her eyes every time someone mentioned marriage. Never again did he want to see that pain in her eyes. He wanted to see her belly grow, carrying his child. He wanted to give it all to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come on, we know it won't be that easy! But Jon has his mind set. We will see what happens my lovelies, we will see.


	28. Of the Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovelies!! Here is another chapter, one more step toward the end. Which I have mostly written. I suspect these next chapters will be a bit shorter because all of the players have been introduced. 
> 
> Enjoy!!

Chapter XXVII

The next day three carts pulled into the gates of Winterfell, much to the confusion of many people. Servants and castle occupants alike stood in the windows as Jon and Eilonwy meet the odd caravan. Eilonwy opened the back, peering into the numerous large jars. She nodded to Jon who pointed to the back of Winterfell, just outside the wall where a small stone forge had been built over the last fortnight. Questions coursed through the halls as the supplies were unloaded into the forge and the trader paid. But no answers ever came. 

The training began after the supplies had been unloaded. It was easier than Eilonwy had expected. Many had been archers on the wall while she and Brynden faced the three Walkers. The other four that had survived had been spinning tales of what the Walkers were like in battle. So the entire army was ready to learn. The hardest and longest part was determining the strength and weakness of each solider, better to pair them together. For that Eilonwy and Jon had to face them one by one. It took the whole morning. By mid day meal, the last of the Nobels had prepared to leave. Including Lady Lyanna who seemed reluctant to go. She bowed to Jon, who bowed in return. The little Lady had wormed her way into not just Jon's heart. 

"My King, it has been quite the experience. I do so enjoy the company of adults." The mischievous gleam in her eye belayed her sarcasm. Jon smiled fondly at her, he knelt and took the young child in his arms. The hug took her by surprise, her body stiff at first but a small smile shaped her thin lips and she returned the embrace. Jon stood again and Lyanna bowed to the rest of the Stark's who returned the gesture. Finally she turned to Eilonwy. 

"Well, Lady of the North." She began, Eilonwy knelt down, her leathers creaking. "You are far more fearsome than the stories of you lead us to believe. I, for one, am glad for the fact you fight with us. For us." The young Lady extended her hand, shaking Eilonwy's with considerable strength. Lyanna pulled Eilonwy closer to whisper in her ear. Eilonwy's eyes grew wide and slightly misted as the Lady continued to talk. Jon couldn't hear a word of it but it made him frown, watching Eilonwy's reaction closely. Lyanna place a kiss on Eilonwy's cheek before turning for the door. Eilonwy slowly stood up, feeling a bit unsteady and watched the straigh back of Lyanna Mormont walk away from her. Lyanna stopped to bid good bye to one more person, Ser Davos stood at the door with her personal guard. He knelt down and took her hand in his. She smiled so kindly at him. 

"Come visit me at Bear Island soon , Ser Davos." He kissed her small gloved hand. "I look forward to your letters." She kissed him on the cheek and left. Eilonwy and the Stark's looked at Ser Davos, stunned. He shrugged his shoulders, as if it were no large thing. 

"She was assisting me." He stated simply and ducked out of the Hall. Eilonwy smiled wide, as she caught the soft blush that creeped up his cheeks and looked at the others, who were looking after him. 

"Sansa, to the infirmary. We have work to do." Eilonwy called, leaving the Hall as well. Jon spent the afternoon teaching the troops to fight back to back as one shield and two swords, as Eilonwy had taught him. It was the best way to stay alive. Jon then set them up into groups of four, giving them drills to run. Jon also had the rest of the house staff and others practicing their archery skills. House work could wait when ugly death was on the way, intent on ending all life. Every hand was needed to defend the North. Arya and Gendry were making dragonglass arrow heads in the Hall while the forges heated to the necessary temperature for Gendry to rework the Valyrian steel. Eilonwy mused that they were an odd pair. They talked all the time but what bits of conversations Eilonwy was able to hear didn't sound like anything serious. 

***  
Eilonwy went through the herbs one more time for her students. The basics for battle field treatments was all they needed, plus treatments for burns from either fire or ice, basics for daily treatment of injuries gained while working in a castle. It was no bad thing to have seven healers who could use herbal medicines like she could. Since she was going to be in the battle. She held up a dried plant from the greenhouse, it had purple flowers bunched together on top of the stock, its leaves were feathery looking, and its root had gone deep. 

"Yarrow," echoed the class. Eilonwy nodded, pleased. 

"Good for?" She questioned passing around the herb. 

"Fighting off infections and stopping swelling and bleeding." Sansa recited. 

"Can be used in a soak, tonic, or salve." Maddy chimed in. Eilonwy applauded her students. 

"Very good. Tomorrow we will tour the greenhouse, so you can see and learn how to care for these plants." Eilonwy dismissed the class, knowing that the maids had dinner to prepare. The cook could spare them for a few hours a day, since the Northern Nobels had left and not so much food needed to be prepared. 

Eilonwy left the women to their own devices and headed to her forge. She knew the basics of what she needed to make but her body was healed enough that she could draw on the magicks again to get the details of what she needed. She drew Jon's old cloak closer around her as she stepped out into the storm. The snow was near knee deep now but she could still see the forests around Winterfell. They still had time. She opened the door to the forge and was greeted with warmth and the strong smell of pine. She had come out earlier that morning to start the forges, leaving them burning all day. It was near enough to nightfall that everyone would be busy and she could so this in peace. Jon had already expressed his discomfort with her tapping into her magicks again so soon. 

"So don't be there when I pay the price." She had stated simply, her temper a bit raw. In all her years she had never had one care so much for her but these were things they needed to survive. She hadn't mentioned that she would have to tap deeply into her magicks to endow the weapons with the necessary power, to make them more lethal to wights and Walkers alike. He face had told her she had hurt him but she could apologize for it after they had saved the world. 

Eilonwy went around the the bowls of dried herbs, a mix of sage, passion flower, gotu kola, tusli, and brahmi. All herbs her people had used for generations to connect with the under currents of the worlds. The blue smoke rose into the air and she climbed on to the great stone slab in the center over her forge. She had placed two clay bowls below the table, knowing one ingredient was her own blood. 

Eilonwy took her Valyrian dagger, watching the fire glint off the blade. For a moment she wished she did not have to endure this alone but she wouldn't force Jon to watch her suffer for her own selfish reason. So she took the blade and sliced a clean path from her wrist into the meat below her thumb. Blood welled there and began to drip down her arm. She quickly repeated the gesture on her other hand. She dropped the knife to the table top and laid back, positioning her wrists off the table edge, over the bowls. Eilonwy took a deep breath of the herb mixture, feeling them settle into her lungs, her body, and her mind. She felt her fingers and toes begin to tingle. She felt her powers burning softly in her belly. She reached for them, feeling them grow and build. She dove down into the currents of the world and was momentarily assaulted by all of the sensations. 

With the sudden and extremely violent deaths of all those people in the South, the currents were chaotic at best. For a moment Eilonwy felt as if she would drown in all the feelings and sensations. She felt the fear of the people as Queen Margeary confronted the High Sparrow, then her frustration that he would allow no one to leave. King Tommen's utter grief and disbelief that his own mother was capable of such hatred and violence. 

'Focus,' she pushed her mind to focus on the one need she had come here for. She pushed further and further down into the currents, searching for the past. The past when it was not the Maesters who had the advisers of the Nobel families. Deep under the hill of Rhaenys', where before Eilonwy's eyes the long forgotten hall again came to life. She felt the cold black marble beneath her feet, lovingly worn by hundreds of thousands of feet. She padded noiselessly down the halls, listening to the stone and the voices trapped there. The first thing that assaulted her was screaming. The feel of the cold floor soaked in blood, slippery with it. She could feel the blade sliding between her ribs again and again. So much death, some of it needless. The Sack of King's Landing had been a very dark time in Westeros history. She saw the flashes of golden hair and fierce green eyes. 

Ser Jamie Lannister, she had known about his part in the death of the Mad King and the Pyromancer, but this ... this was calculated murder. She brushed against the Jamie of the Past, the Kingslayer and was over whemled by his complexity. Kingslayer, they called him. But that was because they did not know. 

"Finally, the day of reckoning came." Jamie's voice whispered inside of Eilonwy's mind. A pair of sapphire blue eyes in a familiar face danced across her vision. "Robert Baratheon marched on the capital after his victory at the Trident. But my father arrived first, with the whole Lannister army at his back. Promising to defend the city against the rebels. I knew my father better than that. He's never been one to pick the losing side. I told the Mad King that much. I urged him to surrender peacefully." Eilonwy could feel the pain beating in Jamie's own heart. 

"But the king didn't listen to me. He didn't listen to Varys, who tried to warn him as well. Lannister's are snakes, not Lions. He did listen to Grand Maester Pycelle, that grey, sunken cunt. 'You can trust the Lannisters,' he had assured the King. 'The Lannisters have always been true friends of the Crown.' So we opened the gates and my father's army sacked the city." Jamie felt disgusted at both his family legacy and that of the Mad King. "Once again, I came to the king, begging him to surrender. He told me instead to bring him my father's head. Then he turned to his pyromancer. 'Burn them all,' he said." Eilonwy felt the shiver course down her own spine in time to Jamie's feeling. "There was a shine to his eyes when he called out those words. The same shine that he had when he suspended Rickard Stark above the flames, nearly laughing with a child like glee as Rickard screamed and tired to flee the heat. His skin seemed to melt off under the heat of the flames, still screaming as it chard his bones. And Brandon, fighting against his own restraints, heedless of his own life. Shouting out to his father, he never noticed the rope killing him." Jamie's eyes took on a distant feel as the memories washed over him. He seemed to rally and remember where his tale had been headed. He looked back at Brienne and continued. 

"He ordered the Pyromancer, 'Burn them in their homes. Burn them in their beds.' Tell me brave Brienne, if your precious Renly commanded you to kill your own father and to stand by while thousands of men, women, and children were burned alive, would you have done it? Would you have kept your oath then?" The challenge blazed in Jamie's eyes so strongly that Brienne, even thought she wanted to turn away, was trapped in his green gaze. "First, I killed the pyromancer to stop him from igniting that match, and then, as the king turned to flee, I drove my sword into his back. 'Burn them all,' he kept saying. 'Burn them all.' I don't think he expected to die. He .... he meant to burn with the rest of us and rise again, reborn as a dragon, to turn his enemies to ash. I slit his throat to make sure that didn't happen, nearly taking his head with my sharpened blade. That's where Ned Stark found me. My white cloak tipped with the blood of the King I swore to protect, my sword dripping my treachery as I sat on the Iron Throne. No one ever knew what the Mad King had planned to do. They all sneered and called me Kingslayer, Oathbreaker." Eilonwy felt a bone deep weariness over take her, a weight she didn't bare but Jamie did. She felt his resolve then, his choice to hunt down the last of the Wisdom's of the Guild. Ending their ability to create such a destructive force that might be wielded again to kill so many. Eilonwy desperately latched on to that thought, she could so easily get lost in the tragedy of Jamie Lannister's life and future. 

"Pine resin, white tar naphtha, burnt lime, photophor, sulfur, saltpeter ... yes yes, I think that shall do." The little voice was soft and wizened inside her mind. She felt age bending her back in a curve not found in younger people, her hands felt tight and ached but she felt a song in her heart, the tune buzzing her lips as the Wisdom she had latched to hummed it. She watched as he gathered all of the things he listed. the flames of the forge licked the sides of the clay pot, but the clay was of a special make so that it would not crack under the extreme stress and heat that it was about to be subjected to. 

There were six clay jars that were rounder than she was but the Wisdom lifted them without much effort. The first jar contained a golden sludge and smelled heavily of the forest. The next contained a thick, vicious fluid that the Wisdom had to spoon into the large clay pot. The next pot contained a white chunky powder that he sprinkled over the top of the combining fluids, he poured about half the container in and watched as the powder dissolved. He took a giant wooden spoon and stirred the fluid to assure none of it burned. He then added the rest of the white powder. Next came another powder, but unlike the other it was dark in appearance, like unbaked clay almost. He poured the whole thing in this time and stirred the substance that was quickly becoming liquid with extreme vigor. Next came the yellow crystal chunks that Eilonwy knew to be sulfur, the smell assaulted her nose, which wrinkled in distaste. The Wisdom tossed seven crystals into the batch and stirred slowly, to mix in the froth of his previous stirring. Last of the pots contain clear grains that Eilonwy knew to be salt from the Iron Island caves, scraped from the inside during low tide. The Wisdom continued to stir, while humming the odd tune to himself. Eilonwy watched as he slice his wrist much like she had, his blood dripping into the pot. Each drop let off a little fizzle of magick as it combine with the substance. The Wisdom then stepped back, taking several deep breaths, as if preparing for what came next. Eilonwy barely bit back her scream as he grabbed the edges of the pot, which seared his skin. His whispered an old incantation in the True Tongue but Eilonwy could hear the words whispering through her mind. 

"I have offer the key, I offer the power. The magicks shall open at then seventh hour. A dragon shall rise, to hear the cries. The price be paid, a blaze to come to our aid." His voice grew in power as he poured life into the pot. Eilonwy watched in mixed horror and wonder as the liquid began to turn, as if stirring itself. Emitting an unearthly green glow. 

Eilonwy ripped herself put of the vision, sitting up to find her wrist had stopped bleeding, the skin all but healed. So that was why she hadn't felt a price coming. Making this thing had a price all it's own. Eilonwy looked down at her hands and cringed. It was going to hurt. 

***   
As the seventh hour neared, Eilonwy understood the incantations references to that specific hour. In order to mix the ingredients just right, it took seven hours. Jon had come to check on her, but had long gone to bed. The winter storm raged outside her forge, but she dripped with sweat. The last ingredient was added, her congealed blood. Two small bowls of it, Eilonwy could feel her heart begin to race as she watched the substance spark and spit as it absorbed her blood. She stepped down and rubbed her hands together, like it was hoping to help block the pain she was about to endure. Eilonwy took several deep breaths whole slowly approaching the pot. She could feel the heat radiating off the pot, like a heart beat. Before she could second guess herself, Eilonwy slammed her hands on both side of the heated pot. 

Scolding didn't even begin to describe the pain that seared through her hands and into her nerve endings. She fought with herself to keep her hands gripping the side of the pot. Beads of sweat broke out across her body as her brain couldn't comprehend why she was still holding the flaming hot object. She felt her throat constrict against the scream that wanted rip it's way out of her lungs. 

"I offer the key, I offer the power." She began through gritted teeth, her voice barely a whisper. "The magicks shall open at the seventh hours. A dragon shall rise, to hear the cries. The price has been paid, a blaze to come to our aid." The strangest sensation began in Eilonwy's heart, a tug almost as the magicks drew up through the soles of her feet, travelling through her hands into the pot. She could feel the substance beginning to turn, magicks binding with every element of the mixture. 

Soon, the burning of her hands forgotten, the room filled with an eerie green glow. Eilonwy could feel it when the substance was complete. With blistered hands she placed the lid over the green glow and headed for the infirmary.


	29. Of The Forge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are dear readers, one more step. Enjoy!

Chapter XXVIII

Eilonwy stared hopelessly at the sealed jar of salve that she needed for the burns on her hands that were beginning to throb. she had already washed them the snow, using the cooling affect to help remove some of the heat. But now she really needed her salve and a clean wrapping for each hand to allow the healing ointment to do its work. It was well past mid night, so there was surely no one awake to help her, not that she would have bothered anyone. Eilonwy was in the moist of trying to figure out if and how she could use her elbows to open the jar when a pale hand reached around her to grab the salve. She signed, feeling his presence right away. She turned slowly to find Jon dressed in his cotton under things. His shirt was untied and left open to bare most of his collar bone and upper chest. The trousers came to rest above his knee, tying tightly around his waist. Eilonwy bit her lip in a mix of emotions as Jon took the jar and opened it with a pop. He gently lead her to a table, putting down the salve and grabbing two freshly cleaned clothes. 

Jon sat down the clothes and motioned for Eilonwy to show him her hands, since he guessed that was were the damage was. She guarded them and the look in her eyes told him she didn't want him to see the price. His stomach clenched and his heart ached as he gently laid his hands on the table palm up. Her eyes looked down at his hands and then up to his face, he made sure it was neutral. Like he wasn't upset that she suffered so much for his people and some didn't even care for her. He held her eyes firmly as she shifted and laid her hands in his. He felt the backs of her hands in his palms and the noticed how hot they felt. Gritting his teeth he glanced down and could barely contain himself. Her palms were swollen and red as if she had held a flame in her hands that was not her own. Blisters were beginning to form on the pads of her fingers. He gently laid one of her hands on the table and took the salve and dipped his fingers deeply into the mixture. Gently he wrapped his fingers around her wrist to prevent her from pulling away and began to massage the salve into her burned hands. She made no sound, only the sharp intake of breath as he worked a descent amount of the solution into her palms and fingers. He wrapped her hand loosely and held his palm out for the other. 

Wordlessly Eilonwy placed her hand into his, watching as he drenched his fingers in the salve again, rubbing it into her fingers first and then her palm. He made sure her hands were entirely covered and thoroughly massaged, then wrapped in clean linen. His a brow was forrowed the entire time with intent focus but sadness and pain flashed in his eyes. After he was done he replaced the jar and held his hand out for her. He didn't want to speak, Eilonwy could plainly see that. So she stood and walked into his arms. He wrapped them around her with a heavy sigh. 

"Jon," she whispered softly but he shook his head and silenced whatever else she was going to say with a searing kiss. When he pulled back, he shook his head again and lead her back to their room. 

***  
Eilonwy heard the door click shut behind her as she looked out the window. She stared down at her forge in amazment, she hadn't even realized it was within sight of their room. Jon must have been up here watching for her to leave. Her heart splintered as the weight of his love for her settled around her. She felt his fingers beginning working to untie the laces of her leathers, since she had dropped her winter gear and his cloak in the infirmary. Still he said nothing as he stripped her down, his knuckles gently grazing her skin. Goose bumps raised all over her body and they had nothing to do with the slight chill in the air. He motioned to the bed and Eilonwy dutifully climbed in. She watched as Jon placed more logs on the fire, stoking it back to roaring life. The light showed her the tension in his body as he leaned against the mantle. Still he said nothing as he stripped down and climbed into bed with her. He pulled her back to his chest, wrapping an arm around her torso and pushing the other under her head. He held her so tightly against himself that she was suddenly afraid. 

Jon kissed the back of Eilonwy's neck in an effort to relieve the tension he felt in her body. She let out a soft sigh of resignation and relaxed back into his arms. Jon just held her as he felt her muscles begin to relax into sleep and her breathing deepened as she drifted off. But Jon couldn't sleep, she had been injured yet again for the sake of the North. Or for the living. He wracked his brain for a way to keep her from injury but she would have to be willing to stay out of harms way. But he knew she wouldn't. No matter the cost she would continue to do what was necessary for the survival of life. Jon held her as close as he could while not disturbing her sleep. There was a fear growing in his heart that he would loose her, no matter what he did. She was making sure they had all the weapons they would need to defeat the dead army, almost like she wasn't expecting to be there when the battle happens. The more Jon thought about it, the more it worried him. He wasn't sure he could survive that. 

***  
Eilonwy sat in the infirmary while her students buzzed around her. Her palms were the first real injury they had seen. So their excitment was understandable. Didn't mean Eilonwy liked being at the center of their little storm. In the morning, Jon had gathered them up after breakfast and given them strict orders to keep her in either the infirmary or in the greenhouse. And they liked him more than they feared her. Eilonwy didn't mind, she knew what Jon was trying to do but it wouldn't last. Tomorrow she would be working with Gendry in the forges, shaping the dragonglass for him to combine with the Valryian steel. He thought it would take him a full moon to complete to work. And it would take her a day to imbue them with the necessary power. She felt her heart sink at the idea of using that much power and the cost that would come after. But it had to be done. They were so close, she couldn't surrender to the fear now. 

"M'Lady?" Came a soft question that drew her attention back to the class working on her hands. She looked down into the dark eyes of Sophia. 

"Yes?" Eilonwy asked. The girl blushed but didn't look away like they all use to do. 

"Is this right?" She asked and Eilonwy looked at her wrapped hands. Eilonwy smiled at their hard work, her hands were tightly wrapped and didn't hurt. She could feel the energy of the salve soaking into her skin and her own magicks responding to help heal the wounds. If she had to venture a guess, she would be fully healed within a few days. 

"Well done," She said, standing. The women scrambled to keep her from leaving their attention. "To the greenhouse." Eilonwy stated, pushing through them to the greenhouse that held all of the herbs that Eilonwy used for healing and the cooks used for seasoning. 

The rest of the afternoon was spent with Eilnowy showing them how the warmth from the castle was funneled into the greenhouse and how the roof was made of a special sun stone that allowed the suns rays to feed the plants even through the storm or in this case winter. The plants were not the size one would expect in summer, but they grew. She showed them which ones were still to young to harvest, which were prefect and which were beyond harvest time so they were used to grow the next generation. She showed them which ones to clip the flowers off of to prevent changing the herbs use, and which to allow to continue. 

All in all it was a long day and Eilonwy was happy for evening meal. It was the first time she got to see Jon since the morning. And he hadn't said anything past kissing her. She knew the distance was not because of what she had done but what she still had to do. Jon, in his own way knew that there was still more to do and a long way to go before they could rest. He had barely eaten and he had pulled her class aside, whispering fiercely to them before heading out in to the yard to continue training. And she hadn't been hungry at lunch, so she had stayed in the greenhouse. It felt good to be surrounded by all that life. Yet now as they sat next to each other, Jon was still quite and he looked tired. Almost like he hadn't slept at all. She rested her hand on his knee under the table and could instantly feel the stress melting away from his muscles. His warm hand closed over hers for a moment and gave her a squeeze, being careful of her injury. She smiled and squeezed back, she didn't like the distance she felt between them.

"How was training today?" She asked as they ate. Jon nodded through his mouth full of food. 

"It was well, they are willing to listen and learn." He said, finally looking at her. "I just hope it will be enough." Eilonwy nodded, she understood that desire. It was what fueled her. 

"It must be, Jon." She whispered.

"How are the healers coming along?" He asked before she could go any further. She smiled but allowed the divergence. 

"Very well," she helds up her hands. "I suspect I will be fully healed in a day or two." Jon nodded, her quick healing was something he had always marveled at. Even near the death she faced after the Walkers and the price, she had come back to him. 

"According to Gendry, the forges are ready." It was amazing how much stress Jon could put into such a simple statement. Eilonwy only nodded. 

"So he has told me." She replied. "I will join him there tomorrow to begin working the dragonglass into the molds. I think Arya will be there to help." Jon smiled softly at the mention of her name. 

"She does seem to be quite fond of him, doesn't she?" Jon asked, glancing side ways at her. Eilonwy laughed softly. 

"I think it began with a shared journey, Jon. It has the potential to be so much more for both of them." She observed. Jon turned a question look to her, but she only smiled knowingly at him. 

"Is he a Baratheon?" Jon asked her. She nodded. 

"Yes. A bastard, but yes. He is one of four, I believe." Eilonwy answered, seeing no reason to keep it from him. 

"A letter arrived this morning from Lord Manderly." The way he said it made Eilonwy nervous. "According to his spies in the South, Aegon Targaryen has been spotted." Eilonwy felt her heart thump in her chest. 

"Oh?" Eilonwy uttered, trying to keep her face neutral. Join eyed her suspiciously but continued. 

"The rumor is that Jon Connington spirited young Aegon away, swapping him for a babe he had stolen. That he is interested in sitting on the Iron Throne." Jon stated, as if he expected her to say something. Eilonwy carefully sipped at the broth she had in front of her. 

"I am sure many interesting things await your Aunt in King's Landing." She replied noncommittally. Jon raised an eye brow but was distracted by the fact that she was only sipping broth. 

"Eilonwy?" Jon asked, looking at her fully now. She returned his gaze. "Are you not feeling well?' She looked startled, so he gestured between his plate full of meats and breads and cheeses and her bowl of broth.

"Oh!" She exclaimed. "I am fine, Jon. My stomach is just a little unhappy tonight." She explained, he nodded but his face was still a worried frown. 

"So what do we do?" Jon inquired. Eilonwy looked at him, worry clear on his face. Not just for her but for his people. She wasn't sure when he had accepted the mantel of King but he took it very seriously. In truth she wasn't sure what to do, the Targaryen's were a hard line to predict. But Eilonwy had seen how fairly Daenerys treated the people she ruled, there was hope yet for Northern independence but Aegon was an unknown factor. Eilonwy had known he lived out there in the world some where. But that was all she knew of him. 

"We wait, Jon." She finally said. "We have much bigger things to worry over than your Targaryen family. Let us defeat the Night's King and his dead army. Then we will worry about the living and their politics." He nodded but worry still ate at him. 

"All I want is for our people to be happy." He whispered, more to the Gods than anyone else. Eilonwy smiled and took his hand in her wrapped ones. 

"Let us make sure they can live first, Jon." She whispered back. "Then we shall worry about their happiness." Jon leaned his forehead against hers. With the Nobels long gone back to their lands, he didn't have to guard his actions as much. 

"Eilonwy?" He asked, pulling back to look at her. She made a questioning sound. "Please wait until your hands are healed before you play with fire again." Eilonwy blinked a few times and then let out a hearty laugh. 

"Alright, Jon." She said between breaths. "I will wait a few more days." 

 

Those few days passed faster than Jon had wanted. She continued to train the next generation of healers and he continued to train the army. Each night they would lay in each others arms, talking of nothing. Jon could feel a battle inside Eilonwy every time she got close to saying something but each time she shook her head and said nothing. She was hiding something from him and he knew it. Yet still he trusted her, she only wanted to save life at any cost. Jon feared it was the cost she was trying to warn him about yet could never bring herself to do it. After morning meal, she had gone to the forges with Gendry and Arya, so Jon did what he always did. He worried. 

***  
Eilonwy felt the vibration of the forge hammer through her entire body as she landes blow after blow on the dragonglass. Shaping one edge into a sharp blade. She had completed two so far as Gendry worked the Valyrian steel and Arya continued to add to the growing collection of dragonglass arrowheads. She and Gendry had made hundreds so far and there were still some pieces of dragonglass that were too small to be made into either dagger or sword. The three of them worked in companionable silence as the day passed. Eilonwy could feel the sweat dripping over her body in the heat and work of the forge. 

It was tidious work but Eilonwy revealed in it. She had always loved the simple work of making things. She held the spike of the blade where the handle would be and ran the file down the edge of the blade to sharpen it. They had decided that the short swords would be made of half dragonglass, half Valyrian steel and barely longer than her forearm. That way they could make enough for every person to have one mixed blade and one would dragonglass blade. Working the stone the way she was made it stronger, not that wight or Walker skin was hard to pierce. By the end of the day, they had four half blades and a dozen more arrowheads. 

Eilonwy felt her body aching as she lowered herself into the bath, the hot water settling around her body and washing off the sweat, dragonglass, and ash from the forge. She let out a contented sigh and relaxed back against the tubs edge, closing her eyes. 

Jon had finished his meal and grabbed a bowl of stew for Eilonwy, whom he was sure was up in their room. Gendry and Arya said she had been working very hard all day. He pushed open their door and could smell the oils in her bath right away. He set the stew down on the small desak and headed toward the soft snoring sounds. Eilonwy was sound asleep in the tub, reclined. Her hair had dried and curled at the ends like it did after she washed in, the tub water was dirty and luke warm. He smiled to himself and reached between her lknees to pull the drain plug. He grabbed a towel to gather her in his arms but when he turned around he found her standing in the tub, looking at him. 

"I brought you stew." He said, holding open the towel to her. She stepped liquidly into his arms, let out a soft moan as he wrapped her up. 

"I don't want stew," she said her face raised toward him. Jon quirk an eyebrow but said nothing. "I want to enjoy you tonight, Jon." She pulled out of the towel and pulled him toward the room. 

***  
It was a fortnight before all the blades were done. Eilonwy felt exhausted and her body ached in all sorts of places. She and Jon had been together evey night since she had begun to see an end to all this. She had one last thing to do, and there was a part of her that was afraid to do it. She had told Gendry and Arya that once the blades were done, she would need a full day alone with them. Just to make sure. Neither has asked why or seemed to think it strange. And Jon was use to her being gone all day anyway that he wouldn't notice. Not until the deed was done. 

Eilonwy looked over the hundreds of weapons they had made, quivers full to the brim of arrows, daggers of gleaming dragonglass and short swords of both. Gendry had made her a special one, a soild Valyrian steel blade dotted with dragonglass like diamonds down the seam. He had called it "Winter's Bane" because that was how he viewed her. He seemed simple minded to most but she could see the intellect shining in his eyes. He had hugged her tightly before closing the door behind himself. Now she was alone, staring down her own destiny. She took several deep breaths, to calm and center herself. The here and now is where she needed to be. Not the paast, not the future she wished they could have. She felt the beating of her heart, the air moving in her lungs, the warmth of the fire against her skin. She wished for a moment that she could see Jon again but she knew he was out with the troops working on the shield wall. Her heart ached for a moment as his face danced in her mind. His touch like a ghost on her skin. But this needed to be done and there was no one else. No one would could bare this burden or weave this magick. Just her. 

With one last thought of Jon, she closed her eyes and reached deep for the flame of magick inside herself. The magicks she was willing to give up so life could survive.


	30. Of the Consequences

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prepare, my dear ones. Have some tissues. Comments and questions are always welcome. If i can answer them with giving too much away, I will.

Chapter XXIX 

Eilonwy felt the flame inside herself, stoking it to life. Her magicks reached deep down into the Earth, like roots to draw more and more energy up. She held her hands out over the mass of weapons feeling their inherent energies. 

"Powers deep and magicks wide, aid me, none can hide. Enchant these objects with all might, so that man can put an end to haunting Night. With the power of life I willingly give, allow man, flower, and creature, all to live." She muttered the incantation that she had written ages ago, willingly giving her life force to endow the weapons with the power of life. Life that could have the power to end the unnatural animation of the wights and Walker's. Eilonwy felt the draw of her power, like a straw pulling the magicks from the ground up through her body and pouring over the weapons.

She felt her magicks intertwining with the inherent magick of dragonglass and the residual magick of the Valyrian steel. She felt a hard pinch in her low belly but braced herself for what was to come, thinking it nothing more than the price. She dug deeper with her magicks and pulled more up through herself. Pouring it over more of the weapons. She felt the wood of the arrow shafts, the sharp points of the heads. The sturdy build of the hanging bows, the good make of the leather covering the dagger handles. Eilonwy felt the sweat beginning to bead on her forehead and face as she pushed harder, joining with each weapon her energy touched, continuing the chant. Never had she drawn on this much magick and inside she felt a strange trembling begin in her lowest belly. But still she pushed, the endowment was almost complete and she couldn't stop now. Price be damned, she had to make sure these weapons were enough. 

Eilonwy felt the last of the weapons soak up the energy when the pain in her abdomen became something she couldn't handle. It felt like someone had stabbed her, Eilonwy finished the binding and doubled over in pain, giving in to the price. That was when she felt it. A warm rush down her legs. Eilonwy's eyes went wide as she looked down and as blood pooled between her feet. The next wave of pain came over her, bringing her to her knees. She let out a scream as the pain caused her to convulse. She heard a noise from outside and fearing it was Jon, she escaped out the back. He couldn't see this. 

***  
Jon was in the courtyard when a scream ripped through the air. It was Eilonwy's, he knew it in his heart. He ran for the forge, where Gendry and Arya said she had locked herself for the day. When he good there, Gendry and Brynden were already trying to break down the door that she had locked. He joined them and as three they busted through the heavy wooden doors. The inside smelled heavily of forge, metal and stone but the smell that stood put to Jon was blood. The dragonglass weapons held an unearthly glow to them. The same glow that was under Eilonwy's skin. Jon walked in cautiously, fearing what he might find. He didn't find Eilonwy but what he did find made his heart stop. 

Gendry and Brynden came up beside Jon, who had stopped in his tracks as he rounded to forge tables. Sansa and Arya had come up around them. Jon was standing so still that they feared the worst. But what they saw was not a body, no it was a large pool of steaming blood. Sansa let out a soft gasp that seemed to jolt Jon out of his shocked state. He turned to them. 

"Sound the alarm, rouse the castle." He ordered. "She is injured, badly. Sansa, prepare the infirmary for the worst." And he was off running, his heart beating a frantic tattoo against his rib cage. 

***  
Ser Davos was roused from a semi peaceful state by the low tolling of the alarm bell. Frowning he got up and got dressed, heading for the Hall to seem what had caused the commotion. He arrived to find the whole of Winterfell gathered, looking as sleepy and confused as himself. No one seemed to know what was going on until Jon burst in covered in blood. 

"My Lord?" Davos stepped forward. Jon's eyes had a frantic note to them. Gendry, Brynden and Arya were close behind him. All had a wild look in their eyes. 

"Eilonwy is missing." Jon announced, collective gasps rang out.

"The blood, my Lord?" Maddy asked, fear showing on her face. Jon looked down at his hands and back at the gathered people. 

"A large amount was found in the forge. The last place Eilonwy was." He confirmed. "Find her." He turned and left the Hall. There was brief moment of silence before the castle exploded into action. Ser Davos headed for the forge first, he had to see the scene for himself. He was an expert at seeing what others did not, it was part of what made him such a good pirate. He hope those skills would serve him now.

As he neared the forge he smelled the blood first. Blood and fire and metal. Davos carefully entered the forge to find the room aglow with magick. The weapons for the army gleaming in an unnatural yet surprisingly beautiful and breath taking way. Davos walked around the table of gleaming weapons to find the pool Jon was talking about. It was cooling now and appeared sticky. Davos felt his stomach roll but he clamped down on the urge to vomit and knelt down to examine it. He could see two odd shapes at the edges of the pool, which told him she had been standing when the first gush of blood came, then she had fallen to her knees. He didn't see any other indication of another person here. So where did the blood come from? It was a lot, from what he could see. He hoped she had taught her healers about blood drafts. He was moving to stand when he saw it. Little drops leading out the window. And he found a small hand print on the ledge. Davos debated calling out to Jon but settled on following the trail first. After all, he didn't know what he would find.

Davos followed the little red drops little flowers fighting to bloom in the snow to Eilonwy's forge. The door was not locked but it was not easy to open. Davos pushed with all his strength, feeling the weight give underneath his effort. Once the door was open, he feared to enter. Not sure what he wanted to find. He cautiously entered the dim forge. The fire had burned low and there was an eerie green light coming from under the lid of a giant clay pot. As his eyes adjusted he still didn't find Eilonwy. But a chair had been hastily shoved against the door. So she had been here. Davos walked slowly through the small forge, searching for something. Anything. But she wasn't there. He was turning to go when a glimmer on the floor caught his eyes. He knelt down and touched the drop. His finger came back warm and slick. He rubbed the finger with thumb. Blood. He followed the trail to the small window and found another small hand print. 

"Why are you running?" He muttered to himself. He could see the lights in the castle and hear the commotion of the search. Again he debated getting Jon but decided against it. Something in his gut told him to follow this trail alone. He followed the deep red drops again, this time toward the forest. The storm was growing darker as the trail got larger. Drops turned into clots. Clots that looked a lot like tissue. 

Davos wasn't sure what he was going to find, but he didn't expect what he saw. First he saw only more white and it gave him a start to realize he was looking at Ghost, Jon's enormous Dire Wolf. But what truly shocked him were the bloody hand prints on Ghost's shoulders and face. Davos feared the worst as he rounded the giant wolf. He saw Eilonwy, curled against herself, holding a small shape in her hands. Ghost had curled himself around her, to give her both warmth and support. She was in her light healers gown but it wasn't light any more. The entire lower section was drenched with blood. Eilonwy was shaking from cold and blood loss. Davos reached put his whole hand to touch her shoulder. His eyes searching her face for anything. Her amber eyes found his, tears fresh in her eyes and streaking down her face. 

"Eilonwy?" His voice was soft and worried. A fresh sob wracked her body as she curled her hand around the small form in her palm. Davos looked down and near heaved. What he saw made his heart break for her.

"I didn't know," she whispered. "I ... I have never carried a child before. I didn't know." She sobbed again and Ghost made a soft whining sound at her distress. He attempted to curl closer around her as Davos took her into his arms. 

"It was suppose to be me, suppose to be my life. My destiny." She had begun to wail into Davos' chest. "I was ready and wiling to give but then ..." She looked down at the small human like shape in her hand. 

"Eilonwy," Davos tried to reason. "You are badly injured, you need help." 

"I didn't know," she sounded to weak and helpless. It frightened Davos far more than anything so far. "I didn't know..." She whispered over and over. Davos closed his bloody hand over hers and the would have been child. She was far too pale, even in what little light there was 

"Let me take you to Jon." The sound of his name seemed to snap her out of it. She pushed away. 

"No," she said firmly, sounding like herself. "He must know nothing." Davos nodded and pulled her to her feet. She bit back a cry as another way of pain took her. 

"Sansa is waiting in the infirmary." Davos stated as Ghost also stood. Eilonwy could only nod as Davos put her on Ghost's back and they dashed toward the castle. 

***  
Sansa had been pacing, chewing her nails when the doors burst open. She jumped and uttered a small cry of surprise. Her surprise quickly became horror as she looked at Eilonwy. Her light colored dress was soaked from the waist down, heavily in the middle by a deep red blood. 

"Oh Gods," Sansa whispered. "Jon?" She asked Davos, who shook his head. 

"She says no." He confirmed. 

"On to the table," Sansa motioned. "I need Sophia and Maddy, Ser Davos, if you please." He helped Eilonwy on to the table and dashed to find the two maids. Sansa quickly gathered the herbs she could as Eilonwy convulsed as another wave of pain took her. But she clenched her teeth together, only uttering a soft whimper. Sweat beading on her exposed skin. Ghost laid down the length of the table on the floor and wouldn't move. 

Maddy and Sophia soon joined her, both uttering cries of shock as the saw Eilonwy on the table, so pale and covered in a dark blood. Ser Davos walked over to accept what Eilonwy was clinging to. She pulled him closer to whisper in his ear. 

"In the forges Ser Davos. Please." She handed over the small bundle of tissue, tears rolling down her face. "Then you can tell him I am found." He only nodded, closing the door behind him. Sansa quickly locked the door and the healers set to work. 

Eilonwy was stripped of the bloody gown and given a fresh linen to cover with, they draped it over her and stoked the fires to a roar. Eilonwy was proped up so they could see better and given a sludge like concoction to drink. Eilonwy drink cup after cup that she was offered while Sansa massaged her lower abdomen in deep circles. Eilonwy let out pained groans as they work. Maddy looked below but the bleeding wasn't stopping. Sophia, who had children of her own had looked at the bundle before Ser Davos had spirited it away to see if all the tissue was out. She confirmed to them that there was nothing of the conception left that would cause the bleeding.

All three were covered in blood when the furious pounding began at the door. Ghost stood up, uttering a growl that vibrated in Eilonwy's whole body. Maddy quickly tossed the bloodied gown into the roaring fire. Eilonwy was insistent that Jon know nothing of the would have been child. How he had known she was found before Ser Daovs got to him, she didn't know. Eilonwy's eyes teared again as a fresh wvae of pain over took her, sweat beaded on her too pale skin. 

"Sansa!!" His voice bellowed from the other side of the door. The healers looked at each other but were in agreement. Eilonwy's wishes would stand unless they could not stop the bleeding.

"No, Jon!" She shouted back, digging deeper into Eilonwy's belly, massaging to stem the flow of blood. Eilonwy utter a small cry of pain but Sansa didn't let up. Ghost walked over to the door and sniffed under it, sensing Jon's tension as he heard her cry. 

"Is she alive?" His voice cracked and Eilonwy felt hot tears run down her cheeks. She gritted her teeth against the raw pain all over her body. 

"I am here, Jon." She called out weakly, her throat raw from holding back the screams. There was silence, then an uttered thanks to the Gods. 

"Please, let me in." He asked softly. The healers looked at Eilonwy but she still shook her head no. She wasn't sure of she could see him and not confess everything. It was cowardly and she knew it. Yet he didn't need to know what they had sacrificed. 

"Let us do our work, Jon." Sansa answered, seeing that Eilonwy could not handle seeing Jon. Fresh tears falling down her face again. "I will come get when we are finished, brother. I swear." They could all hear the arrival of the others outside the door and Jon explaining that she lived but was badly wounded. To leave the healers in peace to do their job and they would have news in the morning. But they all knew, as did Ghost, that once all had returned to bed, Jon would sit outside the door. Waiting. 

"I didn't know." Eilonwy whispered to them, sadness pouring out of every feature of her face. The bundle had looked barely over two moons and with everything that had been happening, the signs were easy to mistake for something else. 

"There will be another," Sophia encouraged. Sansa had not wanted her own, so what had happened was a blessing but seeing the heart break on Eilonwy's face hurt her own heart. Eilonwy was the strongest female warrior the North had seen for sometime. She shouldn't have to endure this as well. 

"The blood is slowing." Maddy called out. Ghost who had lain against the door, heaved a great sigh. They all looked at him, perplexed. Sansa continued to massage Eilonwy's belly with the mixture she had used and Eilonwy finished off the batch of blood tonic. Color was beginning to return to her face and torso, slowly to her limbs. 

"Red raspberry leaf tea next, please Sophia." Sansa ordered softly. The woman obeyed and quickly brewed a batch of it. When Eilonwy was handed the mug, she smiled at all of them. 

"Thank you." She said before sipping on the cup. "I am proud of all of you." Sansa smiled at her. 

"One more cup," Sansa pushed. "And then you can sleep." Eilonwy nodded, feeling tired. She drank down her current cup and handed it to Sophia. She felt hot tears pricking her eyes again as she thought of Jon on the other side of the door. Sophia came back with a full cup. 

"Eilonwy," She looked in to Sophia's black eyes. So much like Jon's. "There will be others." She squeezed her hand before going back to work. Eilonwy nodded, more to herself. She hoped Sophia was right but at the moment, all she could feel was the loss. 

***   
Jon sat with his back against the door, his knees drawn up to his chest. He could feel a heavy weight against the door but he wasn't sure what it was. The rest of the castle had long gone to bed. So when he heard footsteps, he looked up. Ser Davos was coming down the hall and Jon saw the blood on his hands. Jon scrambled to his feet, his wide eyes searching Davos' face for answers. 

"You found her?" Jon asked, Davos nodded. "Why didn't you call me?" He asked, more hurt than upset with Ser Davos' actions. 

"She was badly wounded, My Lord." Davos stated. "And she asked me not too." 

"But ..." Jon began but Davos held up his gloved hand. 

"She asked me not too, Jon." He said again, address Jon as a friend not a King. "And she is as much my Queen as you are my King."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was a very hard chapter for me to write. But it was the only way for Jon and Eilonwy to have a chance. With the way her magick works, it had to be a life. And what would a GoT fanfic be without some gut wrenching pain and heartbreak for our beloved characters? Hopefully y'all don't hate me too much now. Until next time.


	31. Of Healing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally!! An update! After the next two chapters, things will move quickly because I have already (mostly) written the end. Enjoy lovelies! Comments, questions always welcome!

Chapter XXX

Sansa felt the twinge in the muscles between her shoulder blades, joined by one in her temple. She, Maddy, and Sophia had worked tirelessly to save Eilonwy's life. Sansa looked over at her charge, who had finally fallen into a deep healing sleep. Mostly thanks to Sophia's tonic. Some of the color was returning to Eilonwy, her skin flushing from the heat in the room. 

"Quickly," Sansa ordered softly as Maddy returned with the soap and clean cloths. Sophia had just poured the heated water into three buckerts. Sansa had decided to clean Eilonwy before allowing Jon in. But she would live. Ghost heaved a very human sigh of relief from the door that made Sansa look curiously over at the beast. Maddy passed a bar of lavander soap and soft cloth to Sansa and Sophia. They set about the large task of washing the dried blood off of Eilonwy's muscular form. 

"She is a brave one," Sophia commented as they cleaned her. 

"But foolish," Sansa commented. "Jon needs her as much, if not more than the North does." Both women looked at her with raised eyebrows. Sansa didn't often voice her opinion these days. But she never ceased observing. 

"I have known Jon my whole life, though we have not always seen things the same. One thing has not changed, his heart is big. He cares for her more than she realizes. She has helped him become the King and man the North needs to be independent and free." Sansa said, washing Eilonwy's calloused hand. "But he needs her calming presence and advice. In council meeting, it is she that cautions patience and gives sage advice. Now we know it comes from her abilities to see outcomes." 

"But that is what we need." Maddy said. Sansa nodded as she moved up Eilonwy's arm. 

"Yes, but she is the one Jon listens too. For he loves her more than he loves the North." Sansa stated sagely. Silence reigned as they finished their task and changed the dirty linens to clean, dark ones. Sansa approached the door and Ghost lifted his enormous head to watched her approach. 

"It is time to let Jon in." For a moment as the wolf stared at her, she felt a little foolish for talking to the beast like he understood her. But when he got up and moved to lay beneath Eilonwy's sleeping form, that feeling evaporated. Ghost's large nose rubbed her hand that seemed to have slipped off the table. Sansa frowned, a thought tickling her tired brain. She shook her head, dismissing it as she unlock the door and opened it. 

Ser Davos paced the hall furiously. Jon had been doing the same until he was so tired that he couldn't keep his eyes open. He had long ago slumped against the wall beside the door. But Davos could not stop his mind from racing. His own wife had struggled through the last birth of their seventh child. He had almost lost them both, if not for the Maester and midwives. He fretted that maybe he had been wrong to not find Jon after delivering Eilonwy to the healers. What if she had died? He would never forgive himself if he cost Jon the last moments of Eilonwy's life. He stopped as he heard the lock click and the door opened with a squeal of protest. Sansa appeared, pale and covered in blood. Warmth poured out of the infirmary around her. Her red hair was a shade darker and strands stuck to her face. She looked wary. Davos' anxious eyes meet hers. 

"She lives." Sansa said first, for it was most important. Davos let out the deep breath he had sucked in at her appearance. 

"Gods be praised." He muttered. They both looked at Jon. Sansa frowned at her sleeping cousin's form slump against the wall. 

"Should we wake him?" She asked, looking to Davos.

"Yes," he replied without a doubt. Sansa knelt down next to Jon and gripped his shoulder firmly. Jon startled awake and blinked. Confusion plain in his eyes until they took in Sansa and her blood covered smock. He shot to his feet and had it not been for Davos, he would have fallen back down. His legs prickled in protest at the quick movement. 

"Eilonwy?" His voice trembled. Sansa smiled and stepped back, pushing the door open. 

"She lives." Sansa said. The candle lit infirmary cast soft shadows over Eilonwy's sleeping form. Jon rushed to her side, rubbing Ghost's head. He took her hand that had begun to warm. 

"Gods, she is so pale." He whispered, brushed a drying strand of her soft hair off her face. 

"Blood broth three times a day, at least and this tea will help her, my Lord." Sophia said, bowing slightly as he looked at her. Eilonwy was clean but the infirmary looked like a battle zone. Blood pooled on the floors, mixed with the suds and water. Jon could smell it underneath the fresh scent on Eilonwy's skin. Each of the healers looked warn out and covered in blood. Her blood. 

"Thank you," Jon murmured, looking at the three women and Ser Davos. "May I move her? Take her to bed?" Sansa nodded. 

"Yes but be careful, Jon." She placed her arm on his tense shoulder. "She needs to stay in bed and rest." He nodded, scooping her up into his arms. Eilonwy made a soft sound of contentment and snuggled deeper into his chest. 

"Bring what she needs to our room. But rest tonight healers. You have done the North proud." He murmured as he turned to carry Eilonwy up to their chambers. 

"Of course, my King." They responded. Maddy and Sophia left to attend themselves while Sansa and Davos watched Jon disappear around the corner. 

"He deserves to know." Davos murmured. Sansa nodded. 

"He does. And he may, Ser Davos. But Eilonwy is right not to tell him. For all of his strengths, Jon has one weakness." Davos looked at her with a raised eyebrow. 

"He cares too much." She said, placing a gentle hand on Davos' elbow before turning to retire to her own rooms for a hot bath and rest. Sansa had no idea being a true healer could be such a battle. 

***  
Eilonwy came awake slowly, the affects of the tonic wearing off. Her body ached in ways she had never previously known. Her lower stomach felt raw and too tight yet too loose at the same time. She felt the softness of the bed beneath her and was confused. The infirmary table was not soft and she was ridiculously warm. Her eyes fluttered open and she was greeted by the ceiling of her and Jon's chamber. Eilonwy frowned. How had she gotten up here? As if to answer the huge body beside her heaved a sigh. She looked down to find Ghost pressed against her side and a soft snore drew her attention to the large chair by the fire place. Jon sat uncomfortably in the chair, his arms folded across his chest and hair loose. Eilonwy felt a sharp pain at the thought of their loss. 

She struggled to move, every muscle in her body protested. But her movements had woken Ghost and she found herself staring into his large red eyes. She reach a hand up and traced the features of the dire wolf's face, rubbing one velvety ear and then the next. Someone had washed the blood from his coat. She observed thankfully. Ghost simply watched as she slowly piled the pillows against the wall so she could sit up. But when it came time to move her own body, it hurt so badly that a soft cry of pain escaped her. Jon shot to his feet at Eilonwy's soft cry. He looked around confused for a moment before realizing that she had awoken and was trying to move.

"Hold on," he ordered. His rough voice made Eilonwy pause. She lay partially on up the pillows on her side and watched him. He stretched his tired body and tossed some logs into the fire. It eagerly roared back to life. Jon turned and stalked toward Eilonwy with a deadly grace. He gently scooped her up into his arms to settle her down on the pillows. He didn't miss the soft sounds of pain she made as her muscles tried to help. Jon's hands were cold but they felt good against her warm skin. With one of his forearms between her shoulder blades and his hand in her hair, his other fingers caressed her cheek. She smiled at him, her own fingers tracing his jaw line. 

"How could you, Eilonwy?" He asked quietly, fury burning in his eyes. Eilonwy frowned, he knew why.

"For the North." She answered. "For life."

"Damn it all, Eilonwy!" He released her so suddenly that she couldn't catch herself before landing against the pillows. It didn't hurt as much as her heart did at the look of pain and hurt on Jon's face. He stalked back to the fire place, his arm resting against the mantle. His eyes focused on the dancing flames.

"What about me?" He asked so softly she almost missed it. "I need you, Eilonwy. You have given me this crown, this kingdom to rule but I will not do it without you." He turned toward the door as a soft knock echoed in the silence after his statement. He sigh, scrubbing his face. Ghost lazily rose and met Jon at the door. Sansa's face greeted him, a tray in her hands. She looked as tired as he felt. 

"The men are in the Hall." She informed him. He nodded briefly, he turned to look at Eilonwy. 

"I mean it, Eilonwy. No more." He said, slipping out of the door with Ghost beside him before she could respond. Sansa carried the tray into the room and set it down before turning to Eilonwy. 

"He is right." The red head said softly. 

"I know." Eilonwy agreed, watching as Sansa cleaned her hands and covered them in the same balm that Eilonwy had used when Sansa had lost the child. Eilonwy gritted her teeth as Sansa pulled back the covers and set about the rough massage over her swollen but empty womb. "I have no right to ask him to rule if I am not brave enough to be beside him." 

"You are plenty brave, Eilonwy." Sansa pushed deeply into Eilonwy's lower stomach, ignoring her grunt of pain. "But you are foolish with your life. The North needs you alive, not a memory of you." She finished her massage and handed Eilonwy the blood broth. 

"Jon deserves to know what was sacrificed." Sansa stated softly. "But after this war is won." Eilonwy smiled at the woman standing before her. 

"You have grown into a remarkable young woman, Sansa." The beautiful woman smiled ruefully at her. 

"That too, came at a price." She took the empty mug and replaced it with a tea cup. "Three times a day, more if you can stand it. I will send Maddy with it every few hours." 

"Thank you, Sansa." Eilonwy gripped her hand tightly. 

"Heal, Eilonwy. That is all the thanks I need."

***  
Jon watched in the frigid cold as the army practiced the moves Eilonwy had displayed and taught him. He was still furious with Eilonwy for risking her life needlessly. Not needlessly, for the North. For life, as she had said. He was furious that she hadn't talked to him first. She kept her secrets and he knew it, but he wanted her to trust him. He watched with sightless eyes as the army continued to practice. He would have a talk with her while the men warmed up and ate. Ghost had long ago returned to the woods, now that Eilonwy was going to be alright. The dire wolf had disappeared amongst the snow falling. 

***  
Jon wasn't sure what he expected to find when he entered their chamber, but he surely wasn't expecting what he found. Eilonwy was sitting up, her legs crossed and palm resting open on her knees. But what shocked Jon was the soft glow emanating under her skin. 

"Gods," he whispered. The glow slowly faded and her eyes opened to him. 

"Hello, Jon." She whispered. He slowly walked toward her, gripping her reaching hand in his. Tears glittered in her eyes as she looked at him. "Jon, I am so sorry." He pulled her into his arms and held on to her as tight as he dared. He could fporgive her anything unless she left him.

"Never again, Eilonwy." He murmured into her hair. "I couldn't bare it." She kissed his cheek and pulled him tighter against her. 

"No more should be necessary," she whispered back. 

"Damn necessary, Eilonwy." He growled. "I want to know next time. You have given, hell WE have given so much to this country. I want you beside me when we win this war." She looked like she was going to say more but he crushed his lips against hers to silence whatever well thought out argument she may have. When he pulled back, her dazed features greeted him.

"Alright, Jon." She whispered. "When this is over, I owe you an explanation."


	32. Of Passing Time

Chapter XXXI  
They seemed to settle into a routine as the days turned into weeks and weeks into months. S!owly Eilonwy's body had healed, the glow that she emitted while she healed herself still unnerved Jon but he watched. Day by day she was able to move more and more, doing a slow routine of fliud movements to help her body regain the lost strength but Jon could see when it was exhausting her too much and would carry her back to bed. Her cursing in his ear. He sought out Tormund one day, as a memory filtered through his mind. The free man and Brienne were watching over the young group of healers, as Eilonwy instructed them on how to harvest and store herbs, as well as planting and caring for the growing ones. 

"Do you know anymore about this race of people you think Eilonwy belongs to?" Jon asked the free man. Tormund raised his bushy red eyebrow, even Brienne leaned in a bit closer. She was forever on Eilonwy's side for saving Sansa's life. She was the loudest and most armed voice in the council when the Lords and Ladies had begun to fear her. "Do they .... Glow?" Jon asked, his eyes on Eilonwy the whole time, watching her laugh with the young healers. 

"Some did, according to the stories." He said, scratching his furry chin. 

"What were they?" Jon asked.

"My great grand father use to tell stories of people who lived close to where Hard home was set up in later years. They would travel North of the Wall, dispensing healing tonics and peace talks. You know the free folk were not always divided as we are now. Free Folk were once one tribe, spanning the entire North. It was thanks the the Silver Ones." Tormund said slowly, his eyes tracking Eilonwy. 

"Silver Ones?" Jon asked, thinking of the silver/blue glow Eilonwy emitted while she healed herself. 

"Aye," Tormund said around the twig he chewed on. "It was said the healers of their race glowed silver while they were in the trance. After the healer came out, the glow would fade and the person was either healed completely or healed of most deadly wounds." Tormund explained. The laughter of the heals drew all of their attention. 

"And the price?" Jon had to know. Tormund looked at Jon with a raised eyebrow. 

"Healer's did not pay the price, Jon. They drew from their own life force, which seemed to be far stronger than any Free Folk." He said. 

"Who paid the price?" Jon asked.

"Their strongest warriors, from what I heard." Tormund lazily scratched his beard. "Each Silver One was born with the magicks coursing through their veins. They could tap into their own magicks and life force without payment if it was used to heal or help. But warriors, well, they needed the magicks for bad things usually. Defense of self or others, though nobel, went against the curse. So they paid the price for taping into the deeper magicks of the world." Jon's eyes found Eilonwy, who was steadily being covered in mud as the healers flung balls of it at each other. 

"What curse?" Jon pushed. 

"The curse that bound them and their magicks, so that they would never use their magicks without consequence or thought." Tormund picked up Brienne's hand, turning it over in his. Brienne only smiled and relaxed into his touch. 

"Can it be broken?" Jon wondered what an unleashed magickal being like Eilonwy could do if she had no bonds. The thought made him shiver in apprehension. If it were any but Eilonwy, he wouldn't trust them. 

"No, Jon." Tormund followed Jon's eyes. "The stories never told of how to break it." Jon felt the disappointment, he didn't want Eilonwy to tap into the deeper magicks any more. Especially if there was no way for her to be free. This price to be paid in return was too much. He would not tell Eilonwy what he guessed she had lost. It hurt his heart too much to think on it. But now was no time for a child. Neither would he tell her he knew. He had seen the pain keen in her eyes when she looked at her flat stomach every time she thought he wasn't looking. He had never before thought to the emotional price she paid each time she paid the magicks back. When this was over and won, he would search for a way to free her. There had to be one.

***  
"Damn it, Jon!' She exclaimed one night outside of the dinning hall when she stumbled and he scooped her into his arms. She hadn't stumbled because she was weak, there had been a loose stone in the floor. 

"Damn your stubborn streak, Eilonwy. You can not force your strength to return." His onyx eyes danced with amusement when she let out a very unladylike snort and crossed her arms over her chest as he carried her up the stairs. The only thing she didn't do was stick her tongue out at him. He laid her gently down on the bed, kissing her thoroughly. When Jon pulled back, Eilonwy was breathless. Her eyes dilated with passion as he released her. 

"Please, Jon." She asked. It had been nearly six moons since they had been together, surely he was starving as she was. Jon scrubbed his face at the sound of her soft plea. By the Old Gods he wanted her badly but he held back. He knew her body was healed and her strength was returning quicker than it would any other warrior but still... He turned to argue with her but his voice died in his throat as the dress she wore pooled at her feet. Jon licked his suddenly dry lips. He had avoid touching her like he wanted until she was completely healed. 

"I am, Jon." She answered his thought and he wondered if he had said it out loud. "I have been healed for a moon." He looked at her doubtfully and she smirked at him in a way that made him nervous. She ran her hands up one of his arms. He got no warning as her hand suddenly gripped his arm, she spun and flipped him over on to the bed. In the blink of an eye, she was on top of him. 

"Distracted, Jon?" She teased. Jon smiled a sly smile of his own and flipped them over, pushing his suddenly hard body against her heat. She let out a groan. 

"Are you?" He asked, before capturing her lips. He was determined to make it a slow night. The soldiers had the day off tomorrow and he was determined to have a nice day with Eilonwy. He could feel the Night's Kong getting closer. It wouldn't be long now. 

***  
Eilonwy woke up feeling deliciously sore as she stretched. She turned her head to find Jon's peaceful face close to hers. He looked so much younger when he slept. She rolled over, snuggling closer to him. She traced the smooth lines of his face lightly with one of her fingers. When his eyes opened, they briefly flash an unusual violet color causing Eilonwy to frown. 

"Jon?" She whispered. His violet eyes focused on her before fading back to the starless night sky they usually were. He smiled up at her. "What were you dreaming?" She asked, schooling her features. Jon frown slightly, trying to remember. 

"Dragons." He whispered. "They were flying over a town by the sea. And they ... They set fire to a ship. I saw .... A white blonde figure riding the biggest one." He whispered, his eyes flashing between violet and onyx as he spoke. 

"Did the figure say anything?" Eilonwy asked. 

"Dracarys," he whispered, his eyes flashing a bright violet. "She ordered 'dracarys' to them." 

"She?" Eilonwy placed her hand on Jon's cheek. 

"Daenyers." Jon answered, his eyes returning to onyx. Eilonwy only nodded, she had seen dreams of the Queen Across The Sea, herself. It was a threat she wanted to face after they destroyed the Walkers. Jon's Targaryen blood was making itself known as the dragons got older and closer to Westeros. The first meeting between the Queen and her nephew, the King in the North was going to be interesting, Eilonwy thought as Jon's warm bare arm snaked around her waist, pulling her closer so that he could bury his face in her cleavage. She squealed in surprise when he bite down lightly on the side of her breast and the rest of her thoughts scattered as Jon rolled her underneath him, pushing his hard body into her hot one. They let out a pained groan together, their flesh still sensitive from the night before. 

***  
Eilonwy and Jon walked in the snow filled field outside the walls of Winterfell. The seamstress and her team had been working on white battle leathers for the army, Tormund's ingenious idea. It was how the Free Folk had blended in. Jon had agreed that he and Eilonwy should be visible but all others should blend as well as they could. The Night's King already underestimated the living, why show him their true numbers? A few others had volunteered to were black and darker leathers. Eilonwy had watched Sansa carefully when Brynden was one of them. The young woman's jaw had locked but her eyes were spitting fury at the young Lord. 

"I think young Brynden is in for an ear full after this meeting." Eilonwy had whispered to Jon, whose eyes also found the furious Sansa. Jon smiled with a knowledged twinkle in his eyes. Eilonwy frowned at him as his eyes danced in amusement. 

"She is in for a surprise herself." He murmured back. Eilonwy raised a delicate eyebrow and her jaw dropped as the meaning sunk in. 

"He asked?" She inquired. Jon smile widened. 

"He asked me last fort night. And he received a Raven this morning with his father's excitement and blessing." Jon informed her. Eilonwy let out a throaty laugh. 

"Oh, the young Lord has his work cut out for him. She is furious." Eilonwy whispered. 

"Then they are evenly matched. He is as stubborn." They watched the young Lord approach his fuming bride to be, who let out a squeek when she realized he was going straight for her. He swept her up into a furious, possessive kiss. The Hall erupted in cheers as she flushed furiously. He whispered into her ear and the furious turned to confusion to amazement as she looked up to Jon. 

"Only if you wish it, Sansa. I will not forced you." Brynden stated. A slow smile spread over her face as she nodded her head, wrapping her hands around his neck and pulling him down for another kiss. 

"Well, that is that." Jon whispered. The North was now more secure with two marriages between the ruling family and two of the most powerful families in the North that hadn't bowed to Bolton rule. Eilonwy's eyes drifted over to Arya and Gendry, wondering of they would be next. Gendry was patient. Arya had a lot to come to terms with. Jon had her working with the house staff on archery. They would be their main support from the walls of Winterfell. Eilonwy smiled to herself. The future was starting to look much brighter.

***  
The fields looked much like they had in Eilonwy's first vision. She felt her gut twist as they walked over the pristine ground that she knew would be covered in red. Jon held her gloved hand tightly in his. The final preperations were being made. They came to a stop a top a hill that looked toward the Wall when her knees suddenly gave out. With a strangled cry she was dragged into a vision. 

Wights numbering in the thousands swarmed over what was left of the Wall. The Night's King stood a top the rubble of what was Castle Black. His haunting blue eyes looked out over the land South of the Wall. He growled and it felt like he was looking at her. Eilonwy let out a sharp cry as a cold hand closed around her throat. 

"Eilonwy!!" Jon shouted as the clouds cleared from her wide open eyes. Terror written all over her face as snow fell against her up turned face. 

"He comes," she whispered, the glow in her eyes fading. Her eyes latching on to his. "He is coming, Jon!" She cried out and Jon lifted his eyes toward the Wall, feeling a thrill of fear race through his veins.

"How long?" Jon asked, pulling Eilonwy up out of the snow and into his arms. 

"A fort night, no more."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go dear readers. The end of this story is coming. Enjoy!


	33. Of Blessings and Sightings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go, dear readers. This is a short chapter to set upon the beginning of the end. Enjoy!

Chapter XXXII  
Jon and Eilonwy took off for Winterfell, running through the snow. They called for the alarm to be raised as they burst through the gates. The two men posted on duty froze for a moment before ringing the bell that would call all to Winterfell, Free Folk included. Eilonwy and Jon made a dash for the armory, to gather the glittering weapons. Everyone was to gather the the Great Hall when the bell tolled. For a moment, passing over the thresh hold of the armory Eilonwy froze. Remembered pain pulsing through her body, her womb clentching around the emptiness there. 

"Jon," she whispered. Seized by the sudden desire to tell him everything, her hand resting over her empty womb. Jon turned at the sound of Eilonwy's soft call. Color had drained from her face, Jon dropped the arm full of weapons into the cart and took her hands. 

"Eilonwy?" His eyes sought hers. Tears formed in her eyes. 

"Jon, I .... I have so much I have been hiding from you. And now," The tears slipped down her cheeks. Jon pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly against his chest. "Now when it comes to it, I fear I have not done the right thing!" Fear caused her body to begin to tremble. What if keeping the whole truth from Jon would cost him his life? Cost the North the man who could keep them united and free? By all the Gods, had she been foolish? 

"Easy," Jon whispered into her hair as he pulled her impossibly closer. "Eilonwy, I knew from the beginning you kept things from me. I trusted you then, and I trust you now.' He leaned her head back to plant a soft kiss on her lips. 

"But," she began. Jon silenced her with a finger on her lips. 

"No buts, Eilonwy. Now is not the time to being to doubt. When this is over and we are victorious, tell me the truth. All of it." He said, effectively silencing all the doubts in her mind. She simply nodded and helped him finish gathering the weapons. 

***  
The Great Hall was stuffed with people when Eilonwy and Jon burst through the doors. The frantic look about the Hall did not need explaining. Jon climbed the dias and looked out over the gathered army. 

"It is time," he began. "Scouts will head out after gathering their weapons. Eilonwy says we have a fort night, maybe less before the dead army arrives. Get the battle field preparation under way, Tormund. Use the clay pot in Eilonwy's forge to saturate the ground. Free Folk, gather your young and old, all those that can not fight should come here. If we fail..." Jon stopped a swallowed. "The walls of Winterfell maybe able to protect you." He finished. The silence in the hall was heavy around everyone. 

"Once all have gathered here, the army will report and receive their weapons. A 24 hour watch will be posted on all corners of the wall to keep an eye out for the signal." Eilonwy's voice rang out. For a moment there was no movement. 

"All right Free Folk. You heard them, go get your tribes and bring 'em here." Tormund's voice boomed. The Hall emptied as the Free Leaders sprinted for their people, the army divided and the first watch approached Eilonwy and Jon for their weapons. Each fighter was given a short sword and dagger. Arya and Gendry had begun to sort through and place the arrows in quivers, each combined with an unstringed bow was rushed to a spot on the wall over looking the field of battle. Brienne and Sansa gathered the healers to stock up on the infirmary supplies. Linens needed to be boiled and sanitized, rolled and placed in their airtight jars. Salves needed to be check for effectiveness, herbs for freshness. Eilonwy had trained them to be able to work without her, as she would be on the field with Jon and the other fighters. Her heart sang with pride to hear Sansa taking charge of the group as they made for their duties. Eilonwy caught Brynden watching Sandra go. The same fear she felt for Jon, in his eyes. His eyes shifted to hers and they nodded to each other before Brynden disappeared with quivers and bows in his arms. 

"My Lady?" Came a voice in front of her. Eilonwy's eyes landed on a young man, whose original house she did not know, for he was in the white of the army. "Will you say a blessing for us?" Eilonwy's heart squeezed as she looked at the faces surrounding her. Four men had drawn the first watch. Eilonwy inhaled deeply, trying to recall the prayer of her people. 

"May your swords be strong and the arm that wields it stronger. May your mind be clear and your heart be pure. May your soul be free of doubt and sorrow. May your shield never break." No matter their faith, the men bowed their heads. "May fear be a stranger and courage your ally. May you be the implement of justice and mercy. May the Gods be with you as you go into battle. Should you fall, may you be accepted into the place of peace and rest. Blessed be the Warriors of life." Eilonwy finished, feeling a glow deep in her own soul as the long lost words of her people returned to her. Strength rushed through her veins, conviction filled her soul. This was it. This battle would decide everything. 

Jon watched as Eilonwy bowed her head over the four kneeling fighters who would venture out to complete of the first watch. Three days they would be in the wilds until the next shift relieved them. If the dead army was spotted, they had been ordered to not engage. To return at once to Winterfell and rejoin the army. They would face the dead together, no matter the out come. As old words flowed from her lips, a sort of glow eminated from underneath her skin. That never stop amazing Jon, that glow inside of her. After her loss ... Their loss, he feared he would never see it again. But as the men each came forward in their groups of four to receive their weapons and each asked to be blessed, that glow grew brighter and brighter. Jon felt hope in his heart as Eilonwy allowed her prayer to strengthen everyone who heard it. 

***  
Eilonwy watched as Jon drafted identical letters to all the families of the North. Each one stated that the time had come. To pull all behind their walls and wait for word. If none was heard with in the fort night, to flee south and seek a way across the Narrow Sea. Jon sighed as he signed the last letter. He stretched and stood, walking over to gaze into the flames of the Lord's study. Each letter was to be tied with a black ribbon to the leg of a raven. Each instructed where to go. Jon had never known how, but the Ravens knew where to go. 

"Eilonwy?" He called softly. She looked over at him from her window perch. "Meera?" He asked but Eilonwy simply shook her head. They had heard no news from the young Reed, nor of her. Eilonwy and Jon had taken a gamble, it remained to be seen if it paid off. Eilonwy hoped it did. 

"We can only give our best, Jon. We will win or we won't." Eilonwy looked back out over fields where to fate of Westeros would be decided. "I hope it is enough." She said more to herself than to anyone else. 

"As do I, love." Jon whispered back as he gathered the letters and headed to the ravenery. 

***  
With each shift that headed out, they came to Jon and Eilonwy for a blessing. Each time the watchers came back, it was with a shake of their heads. But it was the forth watch that would see the first signs. 

"A swarm," came the breathless reply over the ringing of the bell. The army was quickly dressing in their battle leathers and furs. "It looked like a swarm of black covering the lands." Eilonwy felt her stomach clenched and Jon's hand fisted. 

"How long?" Jon asked. The four men looked at each other. 

"Dawn." One said with the others nodding in agreement. Eilonwy and Jon looked at each other. 

"Go, rest and eat. Tomorrow many things will be decided." Eilonwy said, her voice shaking.


	34. Of the Battle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, dear readers. Believe it or not, battle scenes are terribly hard to write. I wrote and rewrote thus chapter a few times. Hopefully it is satisfying. Enjoy!

Chapter XXXIII  
Jon stood along side Eilonwy, watching the approaching Walkers army with a growing sense of dread. The dead army was so vast and theirs so little. Yet each warrior was armed with both blades of dragonglass, woven with Valyrian steel, an ingenious weapon designed by Gendry, though all in the North knew he was a Baratheon bastard. Jon held Long Claw tightly in his hand, his other gripping Eilonwy's. If they both survived this, he had every intention of making her his Queen. Eilonwy knew it and so did all of the North. With Rickon and Wylla betrothed, Sansa and Brynden engaged now, the allegiances to secure the North were made. 

He felt Eilonwy's grip tighten on him and was brought back to the present. The Night's King had emerged on dead horse back, his ice blue eyes landed on Jon, traveling the length of the Valyrian steel blade. But what confused Jon was the way the Night's King's eyes landed on Eilonwy. He could feel her tense as the King saw her. The pure hatred Jon saw there made him shiver.  

Eilonwy's heart was beating wildly in her chest. This was it. The end. She hoped only that she had moved enough, sacrificed enough that Jon would not die. She squeezed his hand ever tighter as the Night's King's gaze traveled over her, widening with shock and then narrowing with a hatred that was older than recorded time. In that moment Eilonwy wished that she had told Jon the whole truth. But it was too late for regrets now. She gripped her own sword, feeling a battle calm settle into her muscles, though her heart and mind raced. 

With a sneer, the Night's King urged his army forward. Jon held his hand up, Long Claw held high. The dead army moved ever closer, Eilonwy could feel the collective fear building as the tide of dead moved ever closer. The wights seemed to stretch nearly the entire battle field between the living and the Walkers. When they could almost see the white of the glowing blue eyes, Jon forcefully dropped Long Claw. A signal seen from Winterfell's walls. A horn blared in the storm and suddenly green fire erupted in the field, covering nearly all the wights. Eilonwy looked over to the wall covered by archers lead by Arya Stark, flaming arrows flying at will. The dead army recoiled as most of them were engulfed in the Wildfire. Eilonwy smiled a very wicked smile as the inhuman screeching rent the air. It had been a gamble, to think that a field full of Wildfire would slow the march and spare many lives. Most, if not all the wights had been burned, their bodies no longer able to hold the magic of the Night's King. Their dead, dried flesh lighting like a match.

The living army heard the furious scream of the Night's King from across the field. Eilonwy watched in mute horror as he walked through the flames, carving a path of ice for what was left of his army. He emerged on the other side of the Wildfire, untouched. They were more evenly matched now, the two armies. At least body wise. Eilonwy could feel her old magicks stirred in her belly, responding the the threat before them. She squeezed Jon's hand one more time, their eyes locked, speaking all the words their hearts felt. She let go, holding her newly christened blade, Winter's Bane, in two hands. The Dragonglass shinned like some dark diamond in the blade of her swords. She had given her original over, with all the others to make enough short swords for the entire army. She also helped Gendry forge as many Dragonglass daggers and arrowheads as they could with their combine talents. She was not much of a metal worker, but she could work stone. Using little bits of magick to mold and shape it. 

"Shield wall!!" Jon called out. Eilowyn grabbed the offered shield and stood shoulder to shoulder with Jon on her left, Brynden on her right. She meet Brynden's eyes briefly, they held fear but also a fierce determination. There was a red haired Stark waiting to marry him and he fully intended to say those vows. Eilonwy nodded to him. She turned her head to see Jon, his face set in cold determination, his eyes glittering. He glanced at her, his features softened and he looked like he wanted to kiss her. She felt herself smile. Eilonwy glanced through the small gap to see the dead closing in on them. Her features hardened, her body tensed.

"Don't let them touch you!!" She cried out the reminder as the wall of the dead crashed into their lines. The impact was jarring and made Eilonwy's teeth rattle. The battle had begun. 

"Push!!" Jon cried out, Eilonwy dug her back leg in, bracing her left shoulder against her shield. They shoved, pushing back the dead, their shields opened to slash at the wights, who cried out as the dragonglass and Valyrian steel blades touched their skin. When the magicks of the combined elements pierced their skin, it broke the spell of the Night's King, their bodies would disintegrate. That magick had cost her a lot, more than she would ever tell Jon. He didn't need to know. But there were still so many wights, that the shield wall began to fall apart. 

"Swords!!" Cried Jon. "Back to back!!" He ordered. They gave one last push and dropped their shields. Eilonwy drew her dagger. Jon and Brynden came together. They nodded to each other as the dead charged again. 

Eilonwy quickly found herself separated from the main army by a horde of wights. The Night's King had made so many. The wights, the ones that were left fell easily to the new blades of the Northern army, yet the living were out number 4 to 1. Eilonwy heard the cries of a few soliders as the wight's laid hands on them. She knew from experience that their touch could burn flesh like a harsh winter wind. She had a salve ready to treat the wounds and she had given it to the battle field healers, among them Sansa. Who had said she was tired of sitting on the side lines. Being such a gentle soul with little battle experience, Jon had agreed to have her learn under Eilonwy the ways of healing. But no more, he didn't want Sansa to carry the burden of taking lives like the rest of them did. Not that the wights were necessarily alive.   
Eilonwy spun out of the grasp of a wight, bringing her blade harshly into the neck of the beast, slicing easily through the rotting flesh. It made a disturbing sound as the wight cried out with what little vocal cords it had left. The wight dissolved into dust, it's cry carried away by the howling wind. Eilonwy looked up as the Night's King and his Walkers gathered in one line. There were thirteen of them in total. Eilonwy had killed the three that had been sent as a scouting party a few weeks before. Eilonwy could feel the hard gaze of the ice blue eyes on her. This was it. 

"Pawns always go first," she whispered as she raised her sword in a macabre salute to the Night's King. Jon came to stand beside her, a cheer rose from the army as the last of the wights were felled. Eilonwy glanced at Jon, seeing the same expression on his face. That was only the beginning. The Night's King was testing them, seeing what they could do. What they would do. What their numbers really were. Eionwy held back her smile because he didn't know their greatest weapon, their ace, she just hoped it arrived in time. The raven had come early that morning.

"Form ranks!" Shouted Jon. The ranks closed behind them. Eilonwy could feel the energy buzzing behind them. They had all seen how hard it had been for her to kill a Walker. And they remembered the lost comrades. Three walkers had killed a dozen men and nearly her. Now they faced twelve and the Night's King. Eilonwy felt her heart pounding inside of her chest, her magicks responding to the call. With the Night's King so close, his dark magicks stirred her own. She heard the shields lock together around them, leaving the gap so she and Jon could be seen. Jon raised his sword again, dropping it. A volley of arrows flew through the snow, landing in the Walkers. Many cried out in confusion as the dragonglass arrows pierced their skin. The Night's King growled, pulling one out of his thigh. He howled in fury and the line charged. 

At the last minute, they dropped their shields and brought up long spears, catching three Walkers in the gut. Jon, Brynden, and Eilonwy acted quickly bringing their swords down. The Walker's heads fell easily from their shoulders. But the explosion of their combined release threw Eilonwy almost 100 yards away. She landed roughly amongst the remaining Walkers, her ears ringing. Jon felt his heart stop as Eilonwy landed among the Walkers. She seemed stunned for a moment before she launched into an attack.

"Charge!!" He held up his sword and the living ran into the remains Walkers.  The Walkers were weakened from the dragonglass arrows but they still began to tear through the living. Eilonwy could hear their death cries in her ringing ears. 

"No," her heart cried, this wasn't how it was supposed to go. Through her blurred vision she saw the Walkers tearing men apart with their bare hands. But as her vision cleared she saw them, a core group of fighters who had picked up the spears and where using them to pin the Walker's arms or legs, to keep them from moving. She felt it more than saw it, the determination of men built in the air. She heard Jon calling out orders while he fought a Walker with Brynden, he brought the organization back into the living army. She saw them pair up, one grabbing a shield to block, another with a sword to slash. The Walkers heads had to come off for them to truly die. Once the battle was over and the living won, they could pile the bodies and burn them with Wildfire. Eilonwy deflected a not-ice sword coming down at her, as she finally came back to her senses. She looked up into the grey face of the oldest Walker aside from the King himself. She kicked his knee out and flipped herself up to swing for his head. Expecting the blow, his sword met hers. Once he was standing again, they began to exchange blows. He aiming to cripple her but never making the mistake of touching her flesh and she taking piecing of his flesh off, trying to take his head. Her arms were growing tired when she heard it. 

There were seven Walkers left when the howling filled the air. Eilonwy saw the movement from the corner of her eye, so did the Walker she was battling. She drove her blade unto his chest bringing him to his knees. He turned to see the massive figures materializing out of the snow like dreams or nightmares. One of the darker figures launched at the Walker she had, followed by another, tearing him limb from limb as he tried to fend them off. Eilonwy spotted the glittering red eyes of Ghost as he came to Jon and Brynden's aid, with a pack of dire wolves. Men stood stunned as wolves took down three more Walkers, tearing them apart with a viciousness that Eilonwy hadn't known they possessed. 

Another Walker made a grab for her, seeming to know it was her doing. When a smaller child like figure appeared, wielding bow, blade, and deep magicks. The large golden brown eyes that were eerily similar to her but with cat like slits look up at her from a small but brown skinned face. 

"Sorry we are late," the Child said as Eilonwy scooped up a fallen shield to delfect the Walker's increasingly wild and violent blows. They might not have ever known it, but even Walkers were capable of feeling fear.

"You are here in time." Eilonwy stated. An arrow flew between her and the Child, landing in the Walker's eye with a wonderful thud. Eilonwy brought her blade down, taking it's head while the Child wielded magicks to burn it's body. Eilonwy spun to find Meera on horse back, aiming another arrow at the Walker Jon, Brynden, and Ghost faced. The final Walkers were felled, leaving the Night's King alone. 

It seemed that the win was within their grasp when they all felt it. A violent shaking in the very Earth. Eilonwy turned to see the Night's King opening his arms wide. She watched in horror as the fallen began to rise again, their eyes a pale shinning ice blue. 

"Jon!" She screamed out, his eyes taking in the scene. 

"Form ranks!!" He called out, his voice clear as a bell in the settling storm. The snow swirled around the forces of the living as they gathered to face their fallen but this time the King charged with them. The impact was jarring on her already battle wary body. But she stood with the Children beside her and wolves waiting in the further behind for their chance to tear into the newly turned flesh. 

"Push!!" Job ordered, the Night's King narrowed his eyes on Jon. The shields shoved and turned, releasing their fallen from the King's grips. But their fallen out numbered them and slowly they forces were forced apart. The battle raged now, blood spilling across the fallen snow. Eilonwy felt a hard blow from a wight that sent her spinning. The Child jumped in to save her, joined by a wolf. They tore the dead apart. That was when Eilonwy saw what she feared most, the Night's King baring down on Jon, who had lost the support of Brynden, who was fighting one of his former friends and Ghost who was trying to avoid being taken down by two wights. 

Jon raised his sword to the Night's King. His breathing fast from the ferocity of the battle. This was it, if he could end the thing in front of him, the living would be safe and free of fear. Jon stood tall as the King approached, drawing his sword of not-ice as he drew closer. Jon gripped Long Claw in his hands, rising it to defend himself for a brutal down swing. The blow vibrated in his arms, Jon swung for the King's arm. The King moved his blade to defend against the blow. As they exchanged blows, Jon knew it. Saw it clearly as the vision Eilonwy feared so much.

Jon's face was bloodied and battle worn. But he stood tall and proud with Long Claw gripped in his hands. The Night's King standing opposite him, a blade of not-ice pointing at him, light glinting off the blade in an unnatural way. The battle raging around them drew little attention as the two stared at each other. Eilonwy felt her heart seize as the King lunged and Jon parried, deflecting the blow. Valyrian steel and not ice screeching an unholy howl. Slowly they circled each other, testing and retesting offenses and defenses. They were equally matched yet Jon was tired. The King was not. 

"Why do you still fight, Man? Why protect her?" The King hissed.

"Winter stops here. You will go no further, take no more lives." Jon responded, driving a hard blow at the King's head. "I defend life, hers as well."

"You can not keep me from her, Jon Snow." The King hissed, snearing his bastard title. 

"I can or will die trying." Jon stated, his love shinning brightly on his face.

"She deceived you, Snow." The King whispered, his voice sounding more like cracking ice. "You can never truly have her. No one can." Jon felt himself faulted under the vicious blows, his knees giving out landing hard on the ground. The next knocked the swords from his hand. He watched as the Night's King let out an unearth howl of triumph, plunging his sword toward Jon's heart. 

Jon sent a silent prayer to the Gods that Eilonwy would be safe as he made his peace with a good death.But it never got there, Eilonwy had thrown herself in between them, the not-ice piercing her skin, headed for her heart. She cried out as blue flames erupted from the spot, shattering the blade and throwing the King off his feet. Jon watched in awe and horror as the flames engulfed Eilonwy until she was little more than a living flame. The Night's King starred at her, stunned. 

"How could you?!" The King asked, his eyes wide. 

"For a love you never let yourself feel. A love you will never understand." Eilonwy's voice responded from inside the flames. The King continued to stare is disbelief at her, his full attention upon her and her sacrifice. 

"Now, Jon." Her voice was soft inside his head. Jon leaped up, grabbing his blade he ran to the distracted King and drove his blade through the King's heart and into the ground. Pinning the King like some kind of insect. As the flames began to dwindle out, the King realized he was done for as Jon grabbed Eilonwy's blade putting it to the King's throat. 

"The world of men is no longer yours to haunt." He said, raising the blade. The Night's King almost looked thankful as Jon brought the blade down, neatly severing his head from his body. The King's body let out a macabre sigh and exploded in a shower of golden flakes. The gust blew out the remaining flames on Eilonwy's skin. She stood before Jon, gloriously naked, steam pouring off her skin. The wights that had remained dropped to the ground dead as the King's magicks were released. Jon quickly covered her with a cloak as she began to collapse. 

Eilonwy felt her knees giving out as the power drained out of her, leaving her exhausted but alive. She felt the soft fur of Jon's cloak around her as she impacted with his chest, his arms around her. Her hair was drenched in sweat, steam rising off of her head in the cold. Jon crushed her to his chest, feeling the solidness of her form in his arms. Assuring himself that she was alive and unharmed. He had seen the blade enter her chest, had thought he was going to loose her. Yet here she was, alive and whole in his arms. 

"Jon?" Her voice was weak but it gave his heart such hope. He looked down into her amber eyes. "You are squeezing the life out of me." Jon released his hold on her, standing her up. She wobbled a bit but was able to clutch the cloak around her shoulders to her naked frame. They heard a cheer raise from behind them, they turned to see men, Children, and wolves crying out in victory. Jon smiled, pulling Eilonwy to his chest, she turned and felt his hand tangle in her hair, bringing her cooling face to his. 

"I get to keep you now." He whispered, crushing her lips with his. Eilonwy felt her body responding with a new passion, a new power. Her willingness to give her own life had unlocked powers that use to cause her pain to access. She pulled him closer and the snow began to swirl around them. For a few moments it was just them.

"Hail to the King!" Cried a voice bringing their attention back to the people around them.  Swords raised and cries called out. Jon turned with his arm still around Eilonwy and held up his own blade. Victory. 

The healers flooded out of the castle doors, Sansa rushing into Brynden's arms. He crushed her to his chest, one arm around her waist, the other pressing the back of her head to his shoulder. The words murmured between them stayed that way. Jon's arm tightened around Eilonwy as he looked down at her. She skin was flushed with power, her hair was beginning to freeze. Jon scooped her up, yelling orders to get the wounded into the infirmary, then pile the bodies and soak them in Wildfire.

***  
Jon rushed up the stairs, fearing the price was coming. With as much power as she had used it would surely be awful. But as he laid her down on their bed and went to close the door an entirely different sound escaped her. 

Eilonwy felt the laughter boiling up from her belly to her throat. It was a full laughter that made her entire body shake, her stomach contracting with the peels of laugh pouring out of her throat. Tears rolled down her face and she could see a terribly confused Jon looking at her through her teary eyes. 

Jon felt a lightness in his heart he had never felt as Eilonwy's laughter filled their chamber but he was so terribly confused. The last time Eilonwy had used less power than she had today, he could see the fear in her eyes. Fear of the pain to come and a sadness that he had to watch her pay that price. But this? This unfiltered laughter was not what he expected. 

"Eilonwy?" His voice was full of questions. She sat up, feeling the last of the laughter fall from her lips. She held up her hand to him, palm up.

"Come, Jon." She said. "I have a story to tell you. The whole truth this time."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that the battle is won, Jon still has a few things to deal with. Namely his Aunt with three large dragons. Stay tuned to see how that goes! Questions, comments, criticism welcome.


	35. Of the Truth

Chapter XXXIV  
Jon moved careful to her side, sitting on the bed. He looked at her and knew something was different. There was a glow under her skin that had been diminished befor. Now even her eyes were lighter, sparkling with happiness and power. Lots of power. Her normally pale skin was almost iridescent.

"Jon," her voice suddenly so serious it scared him. "I hope you can forgive for keeping this from you. But I couldn't tell you ... for my own selfish reasons." She took his cold hand in hers. Jon was astounded at the warmth in them. There was real fear in her eyes. A fear he had never seen. He took her into his arms, holding her close and for a moment he marveled. She was so warm. This was what holding a star must feel like, he thought. He pulled back to look into her face.

"Eilonwy, I trusted you from the moment I opened my eyes. I know you have been keeping something from me. Many things, in fact." Her eyes went wide, one of his hands tangled in her hair. "But I trusted you anyway. I believe the secrets must have been for a good reason." She felt tears pricking her eyes. 

"Jon, I..." She looked up into his night colored eyes, the love shinning there have her strength. She took a deep breath to begin. "When I told you the story of how Westeros came to be, I left a few things out. But they are important for you to know now." Jon nodded, waiting for her to go on. He sensed that she was still debating what to tell him and how, he didn't want to risk saying anything that would cause her to stop.

"When I told you it was the All Mother's Brother that was cursed, it was not the truth." She paused. "I ... I lied to you about who he was. He was opposition to her warmth and radiance. She is as much summer as he was winter. They were Mother and Father. And when she cursed him,  and cast him out, he ... he cursed her in return." Eilonwy began, her words once again weaving the images of the past. 

***  
The All Mother's fury at what he had done could not be contained. Power flowed through her as easily as she breathed. Nature itself rose up against him, tearing into his pale flesh. But what destroyed him was what she had said. Banishing him from her sight and her heart. They had created the Children of the Forest together but the Children only worshiped her. Their Mother. And he forgotten. By leading Man over the arm, he had betrayed her trust and her love. He knew that but they had fought before, betrayed each other many times over the eons. But as Man slaughtered her beloved Children, her anger became something else, something much darker.   
A darkness that lays in all things, but few ever glimpse. It was fury and vengeance in its purest and deadliest form. He felt her powers lash out against his skin, a cry of pain ripped from his throat. He felt the cold chill sinking into him. He fell to his knees on the border of the Land of Always Winter. He looked up at her, his lover, his wife, the Mother to his yet unborn child. She was dazzling in her fury, her face flushed with power, her eyes glinting dangerously, her hair being whipped around by the wild wind. He even loved the malice in her eyes. 

"How could you?!" She screamed. "How could you bring them here?!" She back handed him again. 

"All I wanted was to be worshiped!" He shouted back, tearing at the wild things that held him on his knees. Fury and hurt flared in her eyes. 

"I worshiped you." She whispered. "Foolish creature that I am." She spat. He could feel her building power and knew something worse was to come. His amber eyes looking into her leaf green ones, pleading silently for her to come to her senses. She placed her hand over his heart and for a moment he thought she had heard his plea. His sorrow for the pain he had caused to their Children.  Yet he hoped in vain, Mother shoved her hand into his chest, gripping his heart. He cried out in shock and pain as he gripped her arm to stop her from ripping it out. But he was no match for her strength, not when she could draw from the power of their child in her womb. But she didn't rip it out, instead he could feel the cold of deepest winter soaking into his heart. 

"I banish you." She began, her fist squeezing around his heart. Turing it to not-ice. "Into darkness and pain, away from the light. I banish you to the Winter and never ending night." She spoke, the darkest of her magicks swelling around her. "Never again to feel life and forever in agony shall you pine, held ever here after by magicks of our line." 

The darkness shot out of her hand and infused with his being. Shadows wrapped around him in what could have been called a loving embrace. Yet he felt all that was warm draining from him, his magicks changing. And suddenly his own anger flared, his hand shot out to her swollen belly.

"Upon our line I do bind, never to use their magicks without mind. A price they will always pay, of pain and blood always to be in dismay." His dwindling powers lashed out, slamming into the Mother. "Never to be free of pain, until one of ours in willingly slain." The two powers collided and the Mother was thrown back, her stomach beginning to heave in early contractions and her Lover was thrown in to the Always Winter. 

The other Gods rush forward to carry the Mother away as her labor came in full. She screamed out in pain as her belly heaved, her brown hair plastered to her head with sweat. The Gods rushed around her, with the help of the Children. The Mother knew than that she had acted foolishly. Allowing her pain to blind her. Tears filled her eyes as she thought of her Lover, forever in darkness and pain. She would have undone the curse but when he added his own, it made it impossible to undo. What was done could not be undone. And now their line would pay the price. She screamed again as another contraction took hold.

"Push Mother," urged one of the Children. The birth blood leaking on to the ground. The Child pulled gently on the infant as the Mother continued to push and scream until she had no more air in her lungs. 

"A girl!" Cried the Child, rushing to hand the Mother her own flesh and blood. The Mother held the small bundle in her arms, feeling love rush through her system. Then the beautiful baby opened her eyes. Amber golden framed by thick lashes, but they did not shine as her Father's had. Her powers bound inside of her by his curse. It was then that the All Mother created a final race, from the birth blood of her only daughter. A race with the strength of their Father, the wisdom of their Mother and a kindness in their hearts, a fierceness in their souls that could only come from the pure innocence of a child. A race that could protect and guide both Man and Children into a time of peace. 

"Oh my little star, my little Silver One." whispered the Mother to her new born babe. "I have made life so terribly hard for you, for who knows how long." She kissed the babe's forehead, rocking her to sleep while she nursed. 

The Father sat in his cold prison, his not-ice heart despairing first for many hundreds of years. But when he came upon that dead horse and his new powers revealed themselves, his despair became something much darker. Hatred of all things living, all things that reminded him of the world he had lost. The daughter he would never seen grow up. A daughter who would grow to hate him like her Mother had. He had command over dead flesh, dead things that life had long fled from. 

"Now," He thought as he scoured the lands for the dead, long and new. "I have the weapons of my vengeance." 

***  
"And so my Father made Walkers and wights to wipe out my line. To ensure the curse would never end, for how could good flourish again in a not-ice heart that had grown so use to hatred." Eilonwy explained, Jon's eyes growing steadily wider. 

"All of my people died in the first Walker invasion, protecting both Man and Children from the darkness of his hate and disdain for my Mother's world of life. Only when Man and Children came together to save my life, did they drive the Walkers back. Each giving blood to build the Wall that could hold them at bay. And as long as the North was untied, the combine magicks of my blood andntheirs would create a barrier that the dead could not cross." Eilonwy couldn't watch Jon while she told him the truth, the whole truth. So instead she held his hand tightly in hers. Memorizing every line, every callous, every scar.

"I was raised to see the error in my parents, to see that using your gifts without forethought was harsh and not always necessary. My race taught me to live off the land and use the land to help and heal. And when I got older, they taught me to fight because we all knew some day he would come for us. I am the last of my kind, Jon. So for a long time I was hidden from his view in that grove of weirwoods. Afraid of the world and its violence. So I slept." Once the truth began to pour out of her, she couldn't stop herself. "And then something changed. The Targaryen line came to Westeros, bringing their magicks and their dragons. I felt it, up there in the North. Something shifted then, making an end to this curse possible."

Eilonwy remembered the vibration that had awoken her from her ages of slumber. A ripple in the currents that her foresight had picked up on. She had seen it then, a vision of a world free of Walkers and wights and an age old hatred that poisoned the lands. A world of beauty and life. And a pair of onyx eyes, rimmed in violet.

"When all of Westeros united, I thought that there might be a chance." Eilonwy paused. "But my Father's curse was not so easily broken. A willing sacrifice of my line, it had said. Of me. Yet just dying wasn't enough. Many had tried that, willing killing themselves in hopes of ending the curse. It never worked." She was babbling now, not knowing where or when to stop. And Jon just sat there is silence, letting the truth wash over him. Of all the secrets, he had never dreamed this was one she had been hiding.

"So I waited and waited for a vision to come, to show me how. To show me what. To show me who." She went on. "Then it happened, on a dark day in Westeros history, a young Northern Lord burst into a room of a tower. The vision and pain stuck me so hard that I was unconscious. But I had the vision all the same. A child of the Northern and Targaryen lines, a gentle but fierce soul was the answer. Some how, some way it was always you Jon." She finally looked up at him. His eyes wide and glistening.

"I didn't realized it until my Father was driving his sword at your heart what 'willingly slain' meant." Her voice had grown soft as she watched his features. The realization dawn across his face like a beautiful sunrise.

"Love." He whispered. "Willingly slain, to give your life without fear or goal. Only to save the life of one you love. Something neither of your parents understood." Eilonwy was nodding. All the time they had been together, she had been fighting her feelings for him sure that it was his death that had to happen to end the curse. But in that moment when she had seen his death, felt it about to happen her heart had shattered. The only thought had been better her than him. He had to live. That was all she had known. 

"But what about..." Jon began to ask as the weight of what she was settled onto him. She was a Goddess, immortal. He was not. He felt suddenly sad, but she lifted his chin to meet her eyes. 

"I don't know, Jon." She read his thoughts. "But I do not want to live without you." He pulled her tightly to him, some how they would figure it out. For now all he cared about was that she was safe and so was the world. And she was staying with him.

***  
Flaming arrows were drawn back and launched, the morbid pyres exploding into green flames. Jon had met the Children and had a treaty drawn up. No more men would go above the Wall into the far North, again. Giving the Children the freedom and the animosity they so greatly desired. Hodor went with them, for Bran was still beyond the Wall. The new three eyed Raven, the Children had informed Jon. Bran was to be safely tucked away in a grove of wierwoods. Eilonwy told Black Knife and Leaf of her cavern, where Bran could be safe and they could rest. The Children bowed to her, speaking an old tongue that Jon couldn't understand but she spoke it with ease. 

The wolves had disappeared into the forests as quickly as they had appeared. Jon still held firm that no dire wolf was to be hunted or harmed again in the North. Ravens were sent out, calling the all clear. That the only thing to fear now was winter itself and the South. A Raven from each house arrived within the fortnight, both thanking and congratulating Jon and the army. Each House claimed to be preparing for Jon's official coronation, which was set for a moon hence. Lord Edmure's Raven announced the arrival of his first born son, Desmond.

"He says both the babe and mother are doing well." Jon told Eilonwy one night. She smiled happily. "The birth was easier now that they were the Lord and Lady, not captives. And they know their son will not grow up a slave to the South." 

"I am sure," she echoed, sipping on her broth. Her stomach felt raw from the amount of power she had drawn, that had rushed through her. The rest of Nobel's would be arriving within the next few days, for many had already arrived included Jon's council members, and Jon was going to inform them of his intent to marry her. He had been fretting for near a week over what he would say.

"Jon," she had called to him from their bed as he paced in front of the roaring fire. He turned to her, thoughts spinning in his eyes. "They will or will not accept. Nothing you do now will change that." She stood and walked over to him, wrapping her arms around him. His arms closed around her and he uttered a sigh. 

"I do not want to fight over this, Eilonwy." Jon said, resting his chin on her head. "There is no stronger warrior for the North than you. I do not want any other woman but you." He stated the second sentence softer. 

"They will see what they will see, Jon." She stated simply. He held her tighter as the night grew colder. 

"It would be an easier choice to accept if they knew the truth." Jon whispered unto her hair. Eilonwy frowned. 

"Perhaps, Jon." She murmured. "Or it could make them even more afraid of me and in connection, afraid of you. House Stark has a lot of power, now more than ever, in the North." Jon frowned. He hadn't thought of it like that. To him, knowing Eilonwy's true parentage made her an even better Queen. How could people be afraid of her?

"Think of my parents, Jon. What they did to each other and to Westeros." She cautioned. 

"But you are not like that." Jon affirmed. She smiled.

"They do not know that, do they?" She pushed. "Let them keep believing that the Silver Ones were a race of people. Belief is a strange thing, Jon. People are willing to do terrible things to keep it."

***  
The next morning brought shocking news. Maddy had brought in a note that had come from Manderly's spies in the South. As Jon's eyes read over the words, they grew steadily wider and wider. The council sat with bated breath waiting for him to reveal what the letter said. But he could not find to words as he handed the letter to Eilonwy. 

"By all the Gods," she whispered, a hand coming her mouth in horror as her eyes grew large.

"Pray tell, my Lady!" Cried out Manderly. "What does it say?" 

"Cersei has blown up the Sept of King's Landing. Murdering hundreds of citizens, including the Queen Margaery and all of Tyrell house, expect for Lady Olenna Redwyne who fled not two days prior. All of the Faith Militant were also in the Sept. The King in his grief jumped from the highest tower of The Red Keep." Eilonwy paused, rereading to check the facts. "Cersei has been crowned Queen." A hush feel over the entire Hall. And all that could be heard was the popping of the sap in the logs of the fire. 

"There is still more," Eilonwy whispered. All eyes turned to her. "A massive Armada has been sighted approaching Dorne. Ships flying with black sails baring a red three-headed dragon." 

"An Armada?" Reed echoed. 

"Nearly a thousand ships were sighted, there may be more." Responded Eilonwy. Horror filled eyes searched others. No one knew what to say.

"Are there dragons?" Manderly wondered. 

"Three were spotted flying." Eilonwy read the letter. "It says that there were three massive cloud appearing forms that moved against the wind, soaring high above the Armada. Sticking close to the lead ship." 

"What do we do?" Brienne asked. For a moment there was silence while Jon thought through his options. If they were forced to fight, there would be more questions as to Eilonwy and who she really was. Not even dragons could fight a Goddess.   
"We send a Raven to Dorne," his response was clear and concise. "Hopefully by now, news of my father's linage has reached all corners of the Seven kingdoms. We send a letter greeting the Targaryen fleet. And offer our support of her claim to the throne of the South. In exchange for our support, the Riverlands and North remain free. Logistics can be worked out once she is here and on the Iron Throne." No one seemed to agrue any other point. With dragons, three of them, she would be an unstoppable force. Only Eilonwy could stand against them.

"My King," Manderly seemed to hesitate. "Perhaps we should consider an alliance with the Targaryen." Jon felt every muscle in his body tense. He was about to say something when Eilonwy touched his arm softly. 

"It is something to discuss in private, Jon." She said. He could already see the resignation in her eyes. 

"I will... consider it, Lord Manderly." Jon said before dismissing the council. 

***  
"It is always something," Jon shouted, slamming the door or their room. "All I want is to marry you! To have children and rule my kingdom justly." He was pacing again, something Eilonwy foresaw him doing a lot in the weeks to come. She stopped him by pulling his hand. 

"You may never get to call me wife, Jon." She stated, silencing his protest with a finger over his lips. "Not according to new Northern laws but I will always be yours." She took one of his hands and placed it over her heart. Jon's gaze softened as he felt the steady thump beneath her breast.

"I will be your concubine, Jon. Claim me according to the old laws and our children will not be bastards. They will be your heirs. Under free folk laws, we were married a long time ago." Jon fell to his knees, taking her by the waist and pulling her closer to him. His forehead resting over her womb. Someday he would see it swell with his child. "Marriage must always be an option when you are King, Jon." She whispered, her hands tangling in his hair. He laid a tender kiss on her bare stomach as he lifted her tunic.

"So be it," he stated with resolve. "When the Nobel's arrive, I will claim you as the old laws allow and they can say nothing about it because it is not marriage." The confident gleam in his eye reminded Eilonwy of his strong lineage. 

"We will weather this, Jon. Together." He took her hand a placed a small silver looking ring on it. Woven into the band was a string of dragonglass. She raised an eyebrow. 

"In case anyone has any doubts." He winked and pulled her to him with a gentle kiss. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! The explanation of Eilonwy! I hope you enjoyed it, dear readers.


	36. Of a Lady's Word

Chapter XXXV  
Jon watched as his Hall was again filled with all the Northern Nobels. Though this time they were each snow covered and greeted at the doors by a maid to remove their winter cloaks, to be hung by the fire on an iron hook that bore their House sigil. Gendry, who had opted to stay in Winterfell as the King's blacksmith, had made them. Jon and Eilonwy suspected that his staying had more to do with Arya than Jon but with his skill, they were not protesting. Jon sat in his wooden throne covered with furs, Eilonwy sat one step below him with Sansa and Arya. Below them stood the line of King's Guard, Rickon at the head. Brienne and Tormund stood at the bottom of the stairs with Gendry beside them. Once the Nobels were all seated with hot stew and ale or wine of their choosing, Jon stood. Eilonwy had her hands neatly folded on her lap, looking like the Lady she didn't feel. She knew what Jon intended and the shock was sure to make waves.

"Lords and Ladies!" He called out and all eyes were on him. "As you have surely all heard, the news from the South is not good. Cersei nows sits upon the Iron Throne, her madness will surely turn to us now that a Targaryen fleet has been sighted outside of Dorne in the Narrow Sea." Murmurs erupted through the Hall. "But the North remains free and secure from Cersei and her meager forces. Too much fighting and her mass murder has weakened the Lannister hold in the South."

"But what of the dragons we hear fly with the Targaryen fleet?" Lord Karstark asked, truly worried but probably more for his own House and holdings than the North. 

"I have sent a letter to Dorne." Jon stated. "Informing the coming Targaryen fleet that they have the support of the North in their claim to the Iron Throne. If and only if they are willing to recognized Northern independence." There was silence. 

"That was a bold move, my King." Lady Lyanna said, looking thoughtful. 

"Indeed it was, but with dragons at her command there was no other way." Jon shared. Everyone knew it to be the case. Dragons had been the only thing to bring the North to its knees in an age passed, or rather its last King in the North.

"And if she demands more?" Lord Manderly asked.

"Then we, as the North will decide what to do." Jon answered. He descended the stairs to take Eilonwy's ringed hand, pulling her to stand. She felt her heart seize, she knew what was coming. 

"On another note, I hear by claim Eilonwy, Lady of the North as my concubine according to the old laws of the Northern people." Jon decided just to get it out. There was no delicate way to do this. Jon figured thwe faster he came out with it, the better it would eventually be.

The silence in the Hall was deafening before it erupted in chaos. Jon and Eilonwy stood there while the Nobels shouted amongst each other. Sansa and Arya looked stunned but smiled broadly as they stood to embrace Eilonwy. Even Rickon had been stunned before he ascended the stairs to join the group embrace. Tormund and the council members were smiling with approval. They had known Jon was planning something. It was very cunning of Jon to use the old laws to bind he and Eilonwy together while still leaving the option for marriage open. 

"My King, you can not think to take this ... This ..Wilding as your consort!" Karstark's voice was loudest. The Hall went silent as Jon saw red. He matched down the steps, his eyes flashing an eerie purple. Eilonwy stood in the armsnof the other Starks and watched as Jon closed in on Karstark. No one moved to stop him as he grabbed Karstark by the coat, hauling him to his feet. 

"That Wildling," Jon gritted out the term because they had agreed to keep her truth to themselves. "Has paid more than her fair share of blood and pain to save the North. She above no other deserves to be Queen and yet she has denied me that joy, settling instead to be my bound consort," Jon spat into Karstark's face. Fury causing his eyes to settle on black rimmed in the violet of the Targrayen line. 

"So that I may be available for marriage, should Northern support not be enough for Daenerys Targaryen. If she demands an allegiance by marriage to the North. She has paid the price for the North to be saved and free, time and time again. All the while you doubt her openly, critize me for my choice of companion and my rule as King. I have tolerated it long enough. If you can no longer keep a civil tongue in your head, I will cut it out." Jon released the stunned Lord and looked around to see if anyone else challenged his choice. 

"I, for one, my King." Lady Lyanna stood looking around at everyone. "Think Lady Eilonwy deserves more than the title of companion or consort or concubine. She deserves the title of wife and Queen." Jon stared at the little Lady in stunned silence. All the other Nobels had begun to nod. "I don't think any will know the full price that Lady Eilonwy has had to pay for us, for the North. But it is a higher price, I would wager, than any here is willing to pay." When Lyanna's eye found Eilonwy's, it struck Eilonwy that somehow the little Lady knew. Lyanna knew that Eilonwy had lost the child because of the price she had paid for imbuing all the weapons the Northern army had used to defend all life. To protect life she had unknowingly giving the life she was carrying. Tears pricked her eyes as the younger Lyanna nodded, her eyes flitting to Ser Davos. Who simply shrugged but his beard barely his his smirk. It seemed that Ser Davos had been working behind the scenes in her favor, in Jon's. 

"The very least we can do as thanks is call her by the title she rightly deserves. Queen in the North." A cheer rose from most of the room after Lyanna's words. 

"And what of the Targaryen heading for Westeros?" The elder Lord Blackwood asked. Lyanna turned to him. 

"As King Jon said, if support is not enough for the Targaryen Queen, we will decided what to do as the North. With a King and Queen." Her words seemed to leave no room for doubt. Jon felt his heart thundering in his chest as Lyanna took her sword and bowed to Eilonwy, who stood on the dias stunned as he felt.  The other Nobel Houses followed Lyanna's example. Drawing their swords, they cried out before dropped to their knees. 

Eilonwy placed her hand on Sansa's shoulder as her knees threathened to give out. The younger woman placed her hand over Eilonwy's as the Hall filled with kneeling Nobels and cries of Queen of the North. She hadn't even hoped for this. Eilonwy had been content to be his and his alone. Marriage was never something she had allowed herself to hope for. She had foreseen Daenerys Targaryen coming to Westeros. Had seen her marriage to Jon. But now, well now things were ever changing. The future was sometimes unknown, even to her. 

***  
The wedding was set to happen first, so that they could have the joint coronation within the week. Eilonwy was still stunned at Lyanna's insisting that she and Jon be formally married before all the Nobels of the North. The castle was all a bustle, Jon and Eilonwy were set up in separate rooms for the day it took to prepare the Godswood of Winterfell. 

Eilonwy stood in front of the full length mirror in the maiden's chamber. Maddy, Sophie, and a few others were fusing about her. Her body had been scrubbed clean by three maids, then her skin had been oiled and massaged into blissful relaxation. A rose water perfume was dabbed on a few choice places over her body. On the inside of her wrists, elbows, behind her ears, and a small dab between her breasts, above her feminine parts, and behind her knees. Then the dressing began and it was a quite an ordeal. First came the corsets that pulled her breasts together and pushed them up. She made a small squeaking sound as they pulled the laces tighter. Just enough to support her, not enough to constrict her too much. Next came the first layer of white shirts, she stepped in and they tied the skirts around her waist. They explained that those skirts helped keep her legs warm because Northern weddings occurred at night. Now that winter was here, it was bound to be cold. The soft fabric brushed against her clean legs. She couldn't recall a time that she had been so clean or so properly dressed. Eilonwy supposed it was long long ago when her people were still alive and she had been younger. 

"Arms up," commanded the older maid. Eilonwy stretched her arms up over her head,being brought back to the present. The thick heavy fabric was dropped over her head tying in the back with silver fasteners down the front. The sleeves were a separate piece that she slid her arms into, Maddy tied the sleeve to the dress tears gathering in her eyes. Despite the thickness of the fabric, it was incredibly soft. Eilonwy could feel the history woven through the threads of the fabric like loving silk. Eilonwy rested her hands over her stomach as the maids busied themselves tying her into the dress of Northern ladies. Eilonwy looked at herself in the mirror and the smiling faces of the women she had grown fond of. 

"Oh, my Lady!" Maddy blubbered. Eilonwy smiled, turning and p"lacing her hand on the side of Maddy's face. She was beginning to feel the same way. This was a dream, her deepest desire for the future. It was a hope she kept locked away, safely in the deep places of her heart. But now ... Now she was dressing for her wedding. Not just a claiming, a wedding. To Jon. Her stomach did a little flip of joy. She was ushered over to a seat so that the maids could braid her hair. She glanced down at the ring she was wearing, the dragonglass glinting in the fire light.

Eilonwy sat as still as she could, while combs were run through her hair, as it was tugged and pulled in several different directions, as the worked her hair into a series of braids. It wasn't long before they were finished and her hair was an intricate twist of braids, crystals woven in, sparkling in the fire light. Eilonwy stared at her reflection, light sparkling in her hair and fire dance across her cheeks. There was a knock at the door and Sophie opened the door to reveal a well groomed, dressed in a sleek black suite Ser Davos. Eilonwy stood up and turned to him. His eyes softened as he looked at her and took on a certain sheen of unshed tears

"Ser Davos," she said taking a step toward him, her hand out stretched toward his own out reaching hand. "What is wrong?" She asked, looking at him. He shook his head, taking her hand and pulling her closer. He kissed the tops of her knuckles.

"I never had a daughter, only the Princess." He bowed his head. Eilonwy stepped even closer and lifted his chin with her other hand. She looked him in the face, tears forming in her own eyes. 

"Davos," she said his name softly. He looked up at her. "I lost my own people a long time ago. You are the closest to a father I have had in a long time. You are the only one I want to walk me to my wedding." He crushed her to him, fighting the tears back. 

"I came because everyone is ready." He said, holding her hand and kissing her knuckles again. She felt her heart stop and then pick up speed. He smiled softly at her, tucmking her arm in the crook of his bent arm. 

"One last touch m'Lady." Called the older maid, whose name was Talia. She held up a pure white cloak of fine soft fur, the shoulders pointed. Eilonwy slipped into the cloak, a pendent that was a weirwood tree closed around her throat. Eilonwy turned around to see the maids, her friends. They shooed her away, her heart pounding in her chest as she and Davos walked down the stairs and out into the gently snowing night. Torches lined their way to the Godswood, where she knew Jon and the Nobels waited. She took a deep calming breath and nodded for Davos to lead on. The dress flowed easily around her boots as she walked, the cloak dragging behind her as they walked. 

***  
Jon stood in front of the weirwood tree watching for Eilonwy appear. He stood with Tormund, who had agreed to be his father figure. To be there for the ceremony. Brienne stood close by, in a dress of her own. Tormund couldn't keep his eyes from drifting to her stunning form. Jon smiled to himself, maybe the freedom after all this would give them time to explore what was between them. The thought made him smile, both deserved a little peace and happiness. Everyone did, after all they had ben through. Jon's heart hurt as the loss he and the land had suffered. So much hurt and heartache had drenched the lands long before the chill of winter had come. True the King's curse had probably had a hand in it, in the dissatisfaction of the land or the madness of the last Targaryen king. An age old hatred had seeped into the lands and minds of those who lived on them. Jon turned his face to the softly falling snow, the flakes gently kissing his cheeks. All that was over now. The curse was broken and winter's chill would wash the world clean. When Spring came again, the world would be new and bright. A world where the new generation of the North could grow up.

It was then that Jon saw Eilonwy round the corner with Ser Davos and all thoughts fled his mind. All darkness in all the corners of his mind was gone as he saw her for what felt like the first time. She was wearing a tradiontal wedding dress of the North, the long white fur cloak trailing behind her. Her hair was intricately woven on her head. Her eyes found his and nothing else mattered. The light shinning in her eyes chased away all the darkness, all the doubts. Her eyes never left his as she trusted Davos to lead her past all the Nobels and to him. They came to stop in front of the weirwood tree, face to face. Jon exhaled a breath that he had been holding. The crystals woven throughout her hair shinning in the fire light. The fire light seemed to kiss her skin in the most intimate fashion. 

"Who comes before the Old Gods on this night?" Tormund intoned, beginning the age old ceremony of marriage of the North. 

"Eilonwy, Lady of the North, of the Silver Ones. A grown and flowered woman, a true born and Nobel of her people. She comes before the Old Gods and asks for their blessings. Who comes to claim her?" Ser Davos responded. 

"Jon, Houses of Stark and Targaryen. King in the North and Guardian of the people of Westeros. Who gives her?" Tormund answered. 

"Ser Davos, House of Seaworthy. Who has fought beside her and is a dear, valued friend." Davos told the world. Patting her hand that was still securely in his bent arm. Tormund looked at Eilonwy, whose eyes drifted to his.

"Eilonwy, Lady of the North, will you take this man?" Tormund asked her. Jon held out his hand for her, his eyes full of love with a tinge of fear. She felt her heart thundering in her chest as she took a deep breath.

"Yes," she breathed. "Yes, I take this man." Davos kissed her on the forehead and gave her hand to Jon. He took her hand, squeezing it tightly. She took several steps forward so that she and Jon were standing nearly cheat to chest. Tormund stepped away from the roots of the tree, joining Brienne. Their hands instinctively reaching for each other. Jon and Eilonwy turned to see the face of the tree. They each kneeled down, still holding hands and bowed their heads for a moment of silent prayer. 

Eilonwy closed her eyes as she bowed her head, feeling Jon's hand holding hers. She felt the warm pulse of blood through his veins, the cold ground beneath her knees. She could feel the life of the weirwood pulsing through its deep reaching roots. She felt the currents under the world, shimmering with life and love. A warmth wrapped around Eilonwy and Jon, like giant wings. Eilonwy could feel her life and Jon's joining, their energies mingling through their hands.

Jon let out a soft gasp as he felt the full force of Eilonwy's power coursing through his hand. He felt his own responding in kind, a spark deep within his own blood. Binding them together for what was left of their lives. Jon looked at her in awe and they stood. Nothing was spoken, no words needed to be said. Jon could feel the bond in his very blood. He took the clasp of her cloak off, sliding the fur from her shoulders. He swept it away from her, a flurry of fallen snbow flajes kivking back up. Jon handed Eilonwy's maiden cloak to Ser Davos. 

Jon then swept the black cloak with a white dire wolf's head atop a three headed dragon from his shoulders and drapped it over hers. An ancient gesture of removing the protection of her old house and trapping her in the protection of his. Now all she had to do was accept his hand. He offered her his hand for a moment only fearing for a moment she wouldn't take it. Eilonwy's hand moved before she made the conscious choice, she couldn't deny him. Not since the forests outside Winterfell. Not since she had admitted to herself what she really felt. 

His hand was warm and calloused and strong as she slide her hands once again into his. His answering smile made her heart flutter as he lead her back toward the castle, Nobels on either side of the walkway. Many smiling faces, some neutral, down to Karstark's moping face. Jon had certainly put him in his place. Eilonwy doubted that he would ever speak again in Jon's presence, for fear of loosing his tongue. She smiled to herself as she and Jon left the bright blaze of the torches, rounding the corner and plunging into a comforting darkness.

Silently they walked up into the Lord's chambers and found it had been properly prepared for them as a newly wedded couple. The linens freshly cleaned and dried, the matteress had been swapped out for a new one. Everything had a new sense to it, new beginnings. Candles burned on every surface they could safely burn on, a softly burning fire emitted a spicely fragrance that Eilonwy found very pleasing. She inhaled deeply and released her breath in a sigh.

"Sandalwood," Jon whispered in her ear. She smiled, feeling his breath brush across her cheek. "Or so I am told." His hands came around to unclasp his cloak. Eilonwy had always loved the simply yet beautiful Northern ceremony. The gesture of the man taking the woman into his House, drapping her in the protection of his line.

She felt his hands begin working through the laces, releasing the tension at the back of her intricate dress. Jon patiently worked through the many layers of her dress, un wrapping her glorious form. It seemed to take ages to get to her corsets. Jon let out a grunt of annoyance at the last and final layer keeping him for her. He worked through the laces quickly, now being practiced at it. 

Eilonwy let out a sigh as the clothing finally slid off her body, freeing her from the beautiful albeit confining wedding gown. Jon turned her, taking her nearly naked form in his arms. Her hands went for the ties of his tunic, slowly devastating him of his clothing until he stood before her in only his trousers. He released the front laces of her bodice, causing her growing breast to spill out. Jon dropped the contraption to the ground and pulled her nakedness to his own, feeling her fingers fumbling with the ties of his trousers, her excitement building. He smelled the delicate winter rose smell on her skin. His nose skimmed from her shoulder up her neck, across her jaw and behind her ear. He made a very male sound of appreciation.

"Hmmmm," he murmured, burying his face back in the crook of her neck. "I adore that smell on you." He said as she finally released the last tie. 

"Whoever decided that wedding pants should tie individually should be stabbed." She muttered as the soft leather slid down his muscled thighs, pooling at his feet. He easily stepped out, leaving his boots with the pants on the floor. He ever so gently pushed Eilonwy back toward the bed. Her erratic breathing told him she was ready but this was something he wanted to savor. She pushed herself up in to the middle of the bed, giving Jon a chance to crawl up her body like a predator, taking possession of her mouth as his prize. He kept his weight off of her, despite her protests. But he took his time, teasing her to the brink without allowing her release. By the time she was nearly mindless, covered in a winter rose scented sweat, he could torment her no longer. Jon slowly inched himself inside of her. The heat searing him. He groaned when he was fully hilted inside of her. For a moment he could do nothing but stay still, shaking as his body was assaulted with new sensations. Something different was happening this time, like when he had only been feeling a part of her when her powers has been locked away inside of her. 

Eilonwy had gone still beneath him as her powers opened up, drawing him in. It was a new sensation for her too. Jon's wide eyes looked down into hers. Slowly he withdrew and pushed back in, a bone deep shiver ran through her body and then his. Her head was pounding with power, her blood boiling with sensation. Her breaths were coming faster as Jon moved in and out of her with increasing speed. Her hands gripped his shoulders like it was all that was keeping her from falling apart. 

"Oh Gods," she whispered, the sensations overwhelming her. Jon's hand had buried in her hair, holding her firmly in place as he set a blinding pace. She could feel her inner muscles beginning to quiver as her release neared. She pulled her lower lips into her teeth, biting hard. She learned from them staff that her cries echoed in some of the Hall. Eilonwy tasted the hot metallic tang on her tongue, like licking a newly cleaned blade. She had drawn blood, her own from biting her lip. Jon leaned down and kissed her, his tongue sweeping into her mouth. He felt a shock shiver through his body as her blood hit his tongue. A wild need drove him faster, causing her to cry out in pleasure. Her muscles clenched him so hard that his own release was torn from him. Jon's back bowed and he let out a cry of his own. Power exploded in a blinding blue light around them and suddenly Jon saw everything. All that was, is, and could be. And Jon was humbled in the great expanse of the world, feeling the currents washing over him and through him. In it all, was Eilonwy. His anchor, his rock, now his wife. Jon collapsed beside of Eilonwy, his arms wrapped around her as he came back to himself.

"By all the Gods!" He whispered and Eilonwy turned toward him. Her hands rested on either side of his face as his eyes slid open. Eilonwy let out a soft gasp. His eyes were no longer just the onxy black she was use to. Now his eyes were rimmed in the violet of this Targaryen side.

"Your Targaryen blood, Jon.." She whispered as understanding dashed on her. "The magicks of your father's line have been relesed." The Targaryen line was almost as old as the Children, it would stand to reason that their line possessed some form of magicks. After all, how else could one connect with and control a dragon. 

"So what now?" he asked. Eilonwy was at a loss for words. What had they done? What had they unlocked?

"We wait, Jon." She said, laying on his chest. "We don't know what, if any ability came with this change. So we wait."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhhh!! It felt so good to write this chapter! I hope it was satifiying for all you dear readers, who have been with us. But it is not quite over yet.


	37. Coronation

Chapter XXXVI  
The coronation had been set for the week following their marriage and it was to be held in the Godswood, before the weirwood tree. Jon, still being of the Old Gods and some of the Houses being of the New, there had to be some compromise and ceremony. They still waited for the arrival of the Maester. A raven had been sent before the wedding that one was needed to preform the coronation. Of course Jon hadn't expected the joy of having a wife at his side to be Queen but it would be a simple thing to add, surely. 

Eilonwy was in the infirmary with the healers, for she could no longer call them students. They had proven themselves time and time again, tending the her and the wounded from the War. Now they sat together, as equals. Drinking strong tea and brew salves together. Eilonwy still had a great many things to teach them but Summer was a long way off. So for now she imparted the Winter wisdom of her people to the young women. They had been laughing over a story of a man's intimate parts and the cold when the bells tolled. For a moment there was stillness as they listened. One for a rider, two for an army. The bell only rang once but still, Eilonwy was on her feet running for Jon, who sat in the Great Hall with his smaller council. Tormund, Brienne, Rickon, young Blackwood, Gendry, and Davos. He had asked her to join but she had declined. 

"I have seen enough war, beloved." She had said. It didn't stop them from discussing it but she had no desire to sit in a council room. She burst through the side door but everyone was facing the main entrance. She moved to place herself in front of Jon but he made a very unnerving noise that had her standing beside him. But as the doors pushed open, two solitary figures shuffeled in out of the blowing winter storm. Their grey cloaks more white because of the heaps of snow on them.

"Maester?" Jon called out. The two looked up at him. One smiling broadly and the other, portly fellow looking rather shocked. The first, a newly greying man stepped up shaking the snow from his a cloak before hanging it on a blank hook. 

"Aeron, my Lord." He walked toward the gathered and still on edge bunch. Seemingly oblivious to the tension. "Maester Aeron from the Citadel." Jon eased through the line.

"Thank you for coming." Jon took in the Maester's collar. He had all sixteen links, some twice over. He extended his hand and the Maester regarded him curiously. The Maester took Jon's hand and shook it in a firm and calloused hand. Jon noted the several iron links adorning the collar. Jon would bet that under the bulky grey cloak, the Maester sported a body built in battle. Much like himself and Tormund. 

"I have brought my acolyte, Samwelll. Who is to be your Maester when he is ready." Aeron motioned for Samuel, whom nearly raced into Jon's arms. The older Maester only smiled at Samuel's exuberance, while most would frown and rebuff. "Until such time as I deem him ready, you shall have us both." Eilonwy was stunned by the Maester's kindness and openness. From what she had gleaned from her time in the Guild memories, this was not what she had been expecting. 

"Samwell!?" Cried a voice from the kitchens, Gilly bursting through the doors. Little Sam hot on her tail. Jon released Sam just time time for Gilly to bowl him over. Crying with joy. Maester Aeron shook his head, his eyes shinning with amusment. His eyes turned to the mass of relaxing council members. A solitary figure stood behind the mass of people. A deep blue dress beneath a healers smock, the long sleeves rolled up passed her elbows. Her hand, which had been resting on a dragon glass hilted dagger, now relaxed down by her side like its twin. Her long, earth brown hair was braided and resting over her shoulder. But it was her eyes that held his attention. A honey brown that held a shine. Like a light from inside. He had attributed her glow to the fires in the Hall but with the light shinning from her eyes, he was not so sure.

Eilonwy did her best to hold still under the Maester's searching eyes. He held his own power, her eyes saw the three Valyrian links in his collar and the soft glow in his own eyes. So he had studied what they called the "Higher Mysteries" or as her people called it magics. He smiled at her, once his eyes were done searching. He stepped forward and bowed to her. 

"You must be the Lady of the North." He called softly. Eilonwy descended the dias, brushing past the council. "Even in the Citadel we have heard tales of you." A delicate blush crept up her milky cheeks. 

"Surely they exaggerate, Maester Aaron." She extended her hand to him. His hands were strong and calloused. The kind of callouses that came from smithing and wielding a sword. The man smiled a friendly smile.

"I doubt it, Lady Eilonwy." He murmured. He turned to Jon, who had been watching the whole exchange with curiosity. "King in the North, Jon Targaryen Stark. It is a great honor, to join you House." Jon nodded to the Maester. 

"Gilly, would you please show them to the Master's quarters. I know, despite my telling you that you are a guest, you have been working with the staff." Jon smiled as Gilly got up, looking guilty. 

"After a lifetime of work, I am not good with idle hands." She blushed. 

"Not yet, Jon. I wish to meet your lovely wife and soon to be Queen." Samwell said, scrambling to his feet, holding little Sam by the hand. Eilonwy came forward, her hand extended to Samwell but little Sam got to her first. Jumping up into her arms. 

"Uh!" She grunted. "You are getting heavy, little one! Must be all the Winterfell food!" Eilonwy leaned down and kissed Samwell on the cheek. He sputtered and waved her off. Jon let out a hearty laugh. Samwell had not changed. Still flustered by women. 

"An honor my Queen." Samwell bowed awkwardly. "I feared for Jon for a long time." Jon frowned at Samwell but Eilonwy only smiled. 

"So have I, dear Samwell." She admitted. "But fear no more." She whispered. Gilly motioned for young Sam to follow as she lead them to their rooms. 

"Perhaps, my King." Maester Aeron called. "During supper, we could discuss the coronation. Young acolyte Samwell has been diligently searching the archives in light of your preference to the Old Gods and some of the House, for the new." Jon nodded.

"Let us get you settled first, Maester Aeron." Jon walked with them, motioning for some of the staff to brave the storm to bring in the Maester and acolyte's things. 

"I thought the Master's served the South." For yund murmured from behind Eilonwy. She looked after the grey cloaked figures. 

"Perhaps. It Samwell serves Jon. Always will." Eilonwy countered. "But perhaps you can address your concerns at supper tonight."

***  
Gilly buzzed about the kitchens in a happy daze. She loved Samwell something fierce. Eilonwy hadn't the heart to tell her that Maesters were supposed to be celibate. Let the girl have her happiness and perhaps when Samwell was a full Maester and stayed with Winterfell, they could all turn a blind eye. Eilonwy walked back to the infirmary with many thoughts iun her head. If Tormund was right and the Citadel did work for the South, a spy in the form of a Maester could be detrimental. She had seen the two links of lead among the Maester's collar. But Samwell had one as well. The Kingdom of the North was still too new to withstand espionage. Samwell carried seven links, which meant he was very smart and very devout in his studies. Black iron, bronze, copper, electrum, gold, lead, and silver. She didn't know the meaning of them all. She knew gold for economics, lead for poisons, iron for Warcraft, Valyrian for higher mysteries, and silver for healing. But the rest she would have to ask about. 

"Eilonwy?" Came the soft voice of Arya from the corner before the entrance. Eilonwy pulled up short. 

"What is it Arya?" Eilonwy asked. Arya withdrew from the shadows like a ghost materializing. The shadows were like a second home for her, it seems. 

"The new Maester," she whispered softly. "I am concerned." Eilonwy frowned at the young Stark. 

"As am I." Eilonwy confided. "But what concerns you, Arya?" The young Stark was threaded a chain of red gold around her fingers. Eilonwy frowned, following the movements. 

"One of the weapons the Faceless Men are fond of." She said, noticing Eilonwy's gaze. 

"An assassins guild." Eilonwy said the phrase many danced around. 

"It is so much more. But I have a hard time explaining it. You don't understand unless you've been there." Arya looked up at her with keen eyes."Though I suspect you have your ways." Eilonwy said nothing. 

"The red gold ring in his chain?" Eilonwy asked. 

"Perhaps." Arya admitted. Her time among the House of Black and White changed her. For the best, Eilonwy thought, in the end. Arya just needed to realize it for herself. Eilonwy suspected that Jaqen H'ghar knew exactly what Arya needed. 

"I will talk with Jon." Eilonwy felt apprehension curling in her gut. What better way for the South to smuggle in an assassin, then shrouded in the grey cloak with a trusted friend. 

***  
Eilonwy sat beside Jon as Samwell bustled back and forth, pulling leaf after leaf of paper from his tanned leather folder. Samwell had done his research. He had found two distinct coronations, one of the Old Gods and one of the Seven. Samwell was happily discussing ways that they could merge the two to appease both Old and New, as well as the Houses. Eilonwy listened with only half an ear. She had decided against telling Jon of Arya's concerns and had Arya herself hidden amongst the shadows. 

"So this part here and this part here," Samwell was pointing to the parchments. Jon leaned over them reading each passage. He smiled and nodded to Samwell, whpo would in turn copy the words to a new clean parchment. 

"Lady Eilonwy?" Samwell got her attention. "What did your people do?" Eilonwy raised an eyebrow in question. 

"To crown their leaders?" Maester Aeron clarified from his seat beside Samwell. Eilonwy chose her next words very carefully. She and Jon were the only ones who knew the truth of her heritage. 

"We had none," she lied easily. "The Elders were just that. The oldest and wisest amongst us, who in turn taught the next generations on their arts. The most skilled taught." It was a very simple explanation for the hierarchy of her people. 

"Fascinating, isn't it Jon!" Samwell beamed at her. "What a wonder the world must have been back then!" Eilonwy smiled easily at Samwell and his thirst for learning. Sometime she would have to talk with Jon about sharing her secret with Samwell. 

"How was the best determined?" Maester Aeron asked. 

"Study and tests," Eilonwy stated. Aware that there were pieces moving. A verbal match between the two of them. "I suspect it is much like earning a link." She moved boldly and she knew it by the flare of understanding in Aeron's eyes. 

"Yes, Sam. Tell me what the links you have mean, please." Jon asked innocently. Samwell turned a tomato red but started in on an explanation of each one, with Jon good naturedly ribbing him that the copper or history link must have been the first he earned. With Samwell laughing and telling him it was actually the second. The first he had earned was the black iron or ravenry. The easiest to earn. Followed by bronze or astronomy, electrum or astrology because the two fields were connected. Then came the lead or poisons and silver for healing arts and medicine. Samwell admitted that the gold or economics had been hardest to earn these far. 

"What of the other meanings?" Jon inquired, curious now. 

"Well, some you are not allowed to know until you pass the ones underneath. Many are paired, like iron or Warcraft and pale steel or smithing. Steel or construction can go easily with those as well. Others are a mystery to us acolytes. We have to pass an exam of sorts before we can begin the study." He explained. 

"So there are links that can be earned that you have no idea what they mean until you earn them?!" Jon sounded shocked. Samwell nodded. 

"What of it, Maester Aeron? Surely there is more you can share now that Samwell is you acolyte." Eilonwy said softly and two curious pairs of eyes looked at the Maester. 

"Of course, my Lady." He picked up his collar, fingering each link. "My favorite was the platinum link. Took my almost two years to complete. It was the study of all the religions of the world." s finger traced the link. 

"I thought that you were a part of the Seven." Eilonwy asked, feigning innocence. 

"No, my dear." He smiled at them all. "Knowledge is my religion. I crave knowledge the way !many crave physical touch or companionship." 

"And the red fold?" Eilonwy asked, it was next the the platinum, glinting at her. 

"Ah yes," His fingers moved over the smooth edges almost lovingly. "This one was earned after a year of servitude in the House of Black and White." The tension in the room sky rocketed. Jon sudden became aware of Eilonwy's verbal game, trying to get the Maester to reveal something. 

"The House of Black and White?" Jon asked. 

"Yes, my King. On the island of Braavos. I earned it along with my Valyrian steel link." He seemed unfazed by the tension. 

"And what did you learn there?" Eilonwy asked, her voice calm but her hand gripping the handle of her dagger. Aeron looked at her then, his blue green eyes glinting. 

"You have nothing to fear from me, my Queen. What I learned there has not been put to use." He said, his eyes dancing over the shadows. 

"How do I know that?" Eilonwy challenged. 

"The woman can search my thoughts, if she would find it pleasing." His change of words and tone took Eilonwy off guard. 

"Eilonwy?" Jon asked. 

"The House of Black and White is, in part, an assassins guild, Jon." Eilonwy whispered. The Maester had not moved a muscle but Eilonwy sensed the threat that lived in his blood. "Why are you here?" She asked. 

"I am here to finished young Samwell's training, so he can be the Maester of Winterfell. Nothing more." He murmured, his eyes boring into hers. 

"Do you serve the South?" Jon demanded. 

"I serve Westeros, my King. Nothing more, nothing less." Aeron answered. "The man has no interest in the politics. Only in knowledge." He placed his hands palms up on the wooden table, his eyes challenging Eilonwy. She removed her hand from her dagger and gently laid her palms in his, his fingers closing around her wrist. She was assaulted by a briage of images by none of them a threat to Jon or the North. She nodded her understanding. 

"You can understand my concern." She said, withdrawing her hands and reaching for Jon as she stood. 

"I do. The madness of the South could easily poison the budding North." He nodded. "I do not blame you for being cautious. Nor for having the girl in the shadows to protect your King." Arya materialized from behind the Maester and Jon sucked in a breath between his teeth. The flame in his eyes promised a fight in their chambers later. 

"Now that it is settled that you are not here to assassinate me, can we get back to writing the coronation?" There was fury in Jon's voice. Arya left the room quietly as they got back to it. 

***  
The slamming of their chamber door made Eilonwy jump as she sat down in one of ythe chairs near the fire. She looked at Jon's tense back. He took several deep breaths, his over inflated lungs stretching his leather vest. 

"Do you not trust me?" He asked, still facing the door. Eilonwy felt her heart twist. For being a Goddess, she wasn't very good at this. 

"Of course I do, Jon." She said, standing. 

"Then why do you still keep secrets?" He asked still not turning torward her. 

"I ... I am sorry, Jon." She whispered. He finally turned, his fingers threading in her hair, the heels of his hands resting along her jaw. 

"We can not rule the North if you keep things from me." He said. 

"I only suspected, Jon." It was a weak defense and she knew it. 

"It doesn't matter. I am your husband." A shiver ran down her spine. "Do not keep things from me, even suspicions. As rulers we only have each other. We have the council and the like. But I can only trust you completely. Yours is the only loyalty that can not be questioned. I want no reason to doubt that, Eilonwy." He pressed a soft kiss to her lips. 

"I didn't want you to doubt your friend." She whispered against his lips. 

"As a King, I must doubt everyone a little." Such wise words for a new King. She thought. "I need you, Eilonwy. I need you to be the one person who is above doubt and question. You have shared with me your deepest truth and I can not express how much happiness that brings me. But I need your honesty above all else. As my Queen, my wife, my lover, I need to know there are nbo secrets between us." She nodded as best as she could with his hands holding her face. 

"I am so use to keeping secrets, Jon." She began. "But you know them. I have no more from you and will do my best to voice my suspicions to you, even if their are unfounded." He kissed her in earnest then.

***  
Jon and Eilonwy had both chosen to wear their battle leathers, so the maids had been working on cleaning and shinning them for a few days. Their sword had been sharpened and polished and two new black cloaks prepared. Eilonwy was to wear a simple black dress with the leather chest plate over it and her blade at her side. Jon was going to be in all black as well, with chain mail to cover his sleeves. Sam and Jon finished the ceremony while Eilonwy and Aeron talked of all the things he had learned and studied. She didn't doubt him anymore, neither did Jon and her worries had not changed the Maester's mind about serving Winterfell. If anything, it endeared him to her more. A fierce Queen, he had said, for uncertain times.

Eilonwy helped secure Jon's cloak around his shoulders as they waited for the ceremony to begin. Her own hair had been woven into several braids, crystals again strung throughout her hair. The brooch used to secure both her cloak and Jon's had been a gift from Gendry. A Dire Wold head over top the three headed dragon. Each brooch was about the size of Eilonwy's palm and sturdy. She looked up into his eyes. His unruly curls had been pulled back into a small leather strap that was secured at the base of his neck. His beard was combed and groomed. His eyes seemed to have decided to stay the onyx ringed in violet, accentuating his mixed lines. 

"Are you ready?" She asked softly. Jon looked down at her, fear and determination warring there. 

"I never thought I would be here." He said, holding her face with one of his hands. "I thought in would live my life at the Wall and die there." Eilonwy refrained from pointing out he had died there. 

"That was not the life you were meant for, Jon." She answered. 

"A lot was not meant to happen, I think." He murmured, ghosts passing across his eyes. Eilonwy frowned.

"My parents hatred poisoned this land for so long. We have a chance to make it right." She felt more guilt than she could ever express over Westeros and all the blood that had been spilled. 

"We will," Jon pulled her imn for a tight hug.

As night fell, they were walked down to the Godswood, their path lit by torches. By each torch stood a Lord or Lady of the North. The storm had ebbed and was no longer blinding. Each Nobrel had been dressed in their finest furs and clothing. Bathed and clean shaven, the scent of the winter rose and sage was everywhere. Samwell and Maester Aeron had been working all day to prepare the Godswood for the ceremony. It had been cleared of the snow fall, an ivory alter set up before the tree, holding their crown. Eilonwy felt her heart squeeze in fear. She felt Jon's hand grip hers in comfort and understanding. He felt the weight too. These were uncertain times and the North would look to them for guidance and protection. Samwell had been granted the joy of preforming the ceremony. He smiled widely at both of them and motioned for them to kneel at the roots of the wierwood. Gracefully, they both lowered to their knees, faces up turned to the softly falling snow.

"Do you, Jon Targaryen Stark, in the presence of the Old Gods and the New, do of your own free will and mind most solemnly swear that you will ever abide by the responsibilities and obligations of King in the North. To protect and guide your people, as those who have come before you. To be fair and just, to heed your Queen, to be the blade that cuts down and the shield that defends your people?" Samwell asked, looking through his arms as he held to crown aloft. Jon swallowed thickly and Eilonwy squeezed his hand. 

"I swear." He said. Samwell placed the crown on his head and Jon closed his eyes briefly, feeling the weight of it settle on his head. He knew that it was like a traditional Northern King crown. Nine pointed swords facing toward the skies, with a large dragonglass stone shinning the center, scenes of dragons and dire wolves between each sword. Made by Gendry, as many of the metal work was now. Samwell smiled at Jon when he opened his eyes. 

"I knew you were made for great things, Jon." Samwell whispered. His eyes sparkling as he spotted Gilly and little Sam. He turned and took the Queen's crown off the pillow next to him. Holding it aloft, he turned to Eilonwy.

"Do you, Eilonwy Tarellethiel of the Silver Race, in the presence of the Old Gods and the New, do of your own free will and mind most solemnly swear that you will ever abide by the responsibilities and obligations of Queen in the North. To nurture and guide your people, as those who have come before you. To be fair and just, to guide your King, to be the hand that heals and the balm that soothes away the hurts and sorrows?" He lowred her crown to just above her head. The small dragon stones glinted in the fire light. 

"I swear." She echoed and Samwell slid the crown over her braids. The intricate weaving that looked almost like the roots of a weirwood tree came to rest across her forehead, the point rest just above her brow. Samwell stepped aside, so that they could fully see the face of ythe wirerwood tree. 

"Winter has come, and now our rule begun. We have become the sword in the darkness. We are the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings forth the dawn. We are the watchers of people. The horn that wakes the sleeper and the shield that guards all realms of life. We pledge our lives and honor to the North, from this day until our last." Jon and Eilonwy spoke in perfect unison. Their oath spoken before the weirwood and all the Nobels of the North, Jon and Eilonwy slowly rose to face them, their hands joined. Jon and Sam had adopted the Night's Watch Oath a bit, a nod to the end of an era.

"Long may they reign!" Echoed out into the night. Answered by the howling of dozens of wolves.


	38. Of Announcements

Chapter XXXVII  
Jon watched Eilonwy, rocking in the chair that Gendry had made them, softly humming a sweet song to herself. It had been nearly 12 moons since their marriage and coronation, they had heard the complaints of people braving the storm, secured the North, and had a tenious treaty with Daenerys Targaryen, who had yet to completely take over the rule of King's Landing, but with Aegon, Tyrion, and Jamie Lannister by her side it was only a matter of time. She had received his letter in Dorne and they had received her response after their cornation. But it had come from Tyrion Lannister, her Hand of the Queen. 

"King in the North Jon Targaryen Stark," It had begun. "I remember when you were a Snow. Now I hear that you are not only a Stark, true born but of the Targaryen line as well. I see you took my advise to heart. And I congratulate you on you marriage to Eilonwy Tarellethiel of the Silver Race, Queen and Lady of the North, a most interesting creature that we have heard about even in Essos. Once my lady Queen takes the Iron Throne, I suspect we will have much to discuss. We are sincerely grateful to you and your Northern people for defeating the Walker army of the dead and protecting a most unappreciative group of Southerners. We are thankful for your offer of support and accept on one condition. That the North be open to trade and negations of returning to the Seven Kingdoms, once they see the benevolent reign of Queen Daenerys the First of Her Name, Queen of Meereen, Queen of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms, Protector of the Realm, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, called Daenerys Stormborn, the Unburnt, Mother of Dragons. I do apologize for the long winded name. But my Queen does so love her titles. Though I dare say that Protector of the Realm belongs to you and your Lady Queen if the stories are true. I have also heard that you employ a young blacksmith who is a Baratheon bastard. If he is willing to support our Queen's claim, she has agreed to rise him up as a true born Baratheon and restore his line's home. I look forward to reading your response in the Red Keep. Tyrion Lannister, Hand of the Queen." 

Eilonwy and Jon had both gotten a laugh out of the letter from Tyrion. having responding in kind that if Daenerys proved to be the fair and just Queen he claimed, they would consider the offer. But everyone knew the truth, Daenerys had possession and control of three dragons. If she chose to force their hand, Jon and Eilonwy would have to bend the knee, ending the North's brief freedom. Jon had kept up comminucation with his council through Ravens and had discovered that Manderly was also aware of the situation. He agreed with their decision to keep the possibilities open. After all Torrhen Stark, the last of the ancient King's of the North had bent the knee to keep his people alive, there was no winning against dragons. If Jon and Eilonwy could do so peacefully, they would. So they waited for word that the Red Keep had been taken to send their response. 

The Red Keep was taken finally after a three moon siege but Cersei Lannister had disappeared into the streets of King's Landing with what remained of her loyal forces. Jamie had written to Tyrion when he had heard of the approaching armada, much like Jon had. Jamie, who had been forever change by Brianne of Tarth and having his daughter die in his arms, was tired of death and war. That and he loathed to admit that Cersei, his weet siter, had become the very evil he had slain his last king before he could do what she had done. With Cersei's ecaspe, Jon and Eilonwy knew that the new Queen would have her hands full. Without the restraint of a council or children, Cersei was beyond manic and dangerous. 

"Tyrion, Hand of the Queen," Eilonwy had written when word had reached them that the Red Keep was firmly in the hands of the Targaryen line. "We do indeed employ young master Gendry. But the choice is his and he has some ties to our house hold through a romance with a young Stark. I dare say that he will not want to leave. That being said, he is not the oldest of Robert's bastards. There is a young man by the name of Edric Storm who already resides at Storm's End. He is the only bastard that Robert ever acknowledged. You may have better luck with offer him Warden of the Storm Lands. As to your Queen's condition, it is accepted by us and the people of the North. After the tyranny of House Lannister and the cruelty of House Bolton, we maintain our independence unless and until your lady Queen proves her worth. She may yet find that the Southerners are enough of a handful for now. We will gladly open trade with you once her rule is established and help secure those routes in our lands. To be frank, we all know what will happen if your lady Queen wants the North under her rule as well but we would prefer a peaceful end and transition if that is what it comes to. For now, the North will remain independent but supportive of her rule upon the Iron Throne. Eilonwy Stark, Queen in the North."

Jon held the response in his hand but wanted to watch Eilonwy for a moment more. She was shinning as she hummed to herself, her hands resting in her lap as she watched the snow fall outside. Since Night's King had been defeated and the wights and Walkers release from his spell, winter had taken on a beautiful quality that he had not seen before. He had been but a babe with the last winter ended and Robert crowned King. Sansa, Arya, and Rickon had all been born in summer. But as the crystals fell from the sky and blanketed the world in a soft sparkling white, Jon found a peace and attractiveness in the calm of winter. A silence covered the land that appealed to his heart. Jon pushed the door closed, calling attention to his presence. Eilonwy looked over at him, her eyes soft and full of love. Newly a year had passed since their wedding and rule had begun. But Jon would never tire of seeing her wrapped in the colors of the Targaryen Stark line. Jon had worked with Master Aeron and Samwell to create a new sigil and banner for his house. A white banner with a single line of red running through it with the Stark direwolf head in the center and a three headed dragon behind it. Eilonwy was drapped in a deep red gown with white trim. 

"I have a Raven from King's Landing." He said, coming closer to her. 

"Jon," she said softly but he didn't seem to hear, wrapped up in the politics of ruling.

"Tyrion claims to have gotten a laugh out of your letter. And he claims that the Southerners are indeed a handful. He gave thanks for the information about Edric, sure that he would make a good Warden of the Storm Lands. He asks that if the Vale and Riverlands are willing, that they might join under the rule of Daenerys." He was looking down at the letter. "Daenerys still offers legitimacy to Gendry if he wishes it. Claiming that if he and our young Stark marry, ties to the South would be mutually beneficial for us all. I do believe she had intended to come here and marry me." Jon mused. But she was his aunt and the thought was not appealing. He longed for a family who was as lost in their family history as he was. They had plans to travel into the South once Cersei was dealt with and was not a threat. But they could not find her and her loyal had become somewhat gorilla fighters, striking where ever they could and causing destruction across the South. If Manderly's spies were to be believed, that is.

"Jon," She called a little louder but he was so absored that he didn't notice. 

"He apologies for the treatment of the North under Lannister rule and insists that we come to visit to see how things will change. He says that his Queen mourns our misguided doubt in her ability to rule but for the moment respects it." Jon paused in his summarizing when felt Eilonwy's hand close over his own. He frowned at her, confused. But there was a glow to her skin that gave him pause before he continued with his summary. A lightness to her smile and a secret glimmer in her eyes. "Eilonwy?" His voice shook only in the slightest.

Without speaking she guided his hand to her lower belly. For a moment he wasn't sure what she was doing but when he felt the begins of a swell there, his knees gave out. Eilonwy held his hand firm to her swelling belly as his knees gave out and he landed on the floor. His breath came faster and his pupils dilated. He felt it, she was sure of that. Their twice blessed children's inherent power reached out to his. She saw a tear form in his eye as he pulled her closer so that he could rest his ear against her belly. She sighed, weaving her hands in his hair as he held her close but gentle. She had known for two moons but said nothing out of old fear and painful memories. She had been to Sansa and Sophia who promised to say nothing until she was ready and they were sure the pregnancy was a good one. 

"Hello, little ones." He whispered against her belly. Eilonwy smiled and watched the snow fall outside the window. The future was looking very bright. 

***  
The ravens went out that afternoon. The castle was buzzing with excitement. Twins. The first babes to be born amongst the winter chill and free North in an era. Eilonwy was embraced by more people than she could count. Sansa had already claimed the right, as her sister, to be amongst the midwives. And the clearing out of the chamber that connected to theirs began immediately. Jon told her it was the nursery that hadn't been used since Rickon had been born so it had been used for storage. But now it was to be cleaned out and scrubbed down. Gendry had already volunteered to make the cradle and cribs for the babes. Choosing to not think about the Southern Queen's offer. He cared not for legitimacy or a claim to the Storm Lands. He cared nly for his prickly Stark, who was fighting her own feelings. He could clearly see it and knew she loved him. And he was a patient man. He would wait for her. 

"Are you sure it is twins, my Lady?" Asked Maddy. "You can not be more than a moon or two along." Eilonwy smiled, she was three and a half moons. She had kept the secret when she had missed her first moon blood. And the castle had been buzzing in preparation for Sansa and Brynden's wedding that no one had noticed she had not bleed. 

"I am sure. I can feel two. Two little heartbeats, Maddy." Eilonwy carefully caressed her growing belly. "I guess I am about three and a half moons." Maddy looked ashamed. She and Eilonwy had become more friends that servant and mistress. 

"How did I not notice?" Maddy asked herself. Eilonwy gently took her hand. 

"Sansa got married." She stated simply and Maddy knew she was right. The buzz about the wedding had taken up so much of her time. 

"But I should have been paying attention." Maddy insisted. Eilonwy laughed softly.

"I am glad you weren't. I wanted to be sure. Missing one moon bleed is not unusual. And after the first time ..." Eilonwy paused rubbing her belly again. "I wanted to be sure before I told anyone, especially Jon." Maddy nodded. She had been party to the last time and could understand the desire. 

Congratulations began to pour in, along with gifts from all families but the Karstarks. Not that Jon or Eilonwy had expected anything less. Karstark had returned the their little corner of the North and barely been heard from. Manderly was currently working on getting a spy into the household to see what they could learn. If he was planning a rebellion, they would need to deal with out before it gained momentum. Jon had his suspicions but the rest of the Northern families, the Vale, and the Riverlands were quite content with the Northern rule. They had received a Raven not long ago that winter had finally arrived in the Riverlands, snow beginning to fall. Jon thought that winter would soon reach King's landing as well, the first snow would soon fall. He wondered how his Aunt, who had thus far lived in blisteringly warm climates, was preparing for the cold. This winter promised to be the longest in memory, perhaps even reaching to Dorne. 

***  
Jon found Eilonwy sitting in the infirmary with her healers as they laughed and talked, planning for the birth. It was going to be a huge affair, twins had not been born in an age. And the castle was absolutely buzzing with excitement as Eilonwy got bigger. She was probably 7 or 8 moons now, her belly large and rounded. When the twins got to playing, everyone could see their movement across her stomach. According to Maester Aeron, the movement was healthy and a very good sign. At night Jon loved nothing more than running his fingers across her belly and watching his children chasing after his touch. Eilonwy, who never complained, would laugh, a deep throaty laugh at the antics. 

"I suspect they will be a handful once they get their legs under them, dear husband." She murmured one night after she made him stop so she could sleep. Jon chuckled softly and held her close. 

***  
Eilonwy's brow was dripping with sweat as another contraction rippled along her belly. If she had thought memory of the pain of Lyanna giving birth to Jon had been bad, nothing had prepared her for the birth of her own children. Her water had broken a few hours ago and she had been rushed to the birthing room that had been prepared. She paced now on bare feet across the warm floor. A roaring fire had been kept in the room since her ninth moon had passed. Jon walked anxiously beside her, pleading with her to return to the bed when a contraction would seize her. All the postpartum plans had been prepared and now they all waited. 

As the contractions moved closer and closer, Sophia insisted that she return to the bed for fear she would fall over. Eilonwy couldn't hold back her screams of pain anymore as each contraction was almost on top of the last. Jon sat in the bed with her. Her back against his chest, her hands clutching his. She squeezed his hands with near chrushing force as the contractions crashed over her like waves. She through her head back resting it on Jon's shoulder and screamed as Sophia and Sansa instructed her to push. If asked later, Eilonwy could not form the words to express the pain or the feeling of pushing out her children. But it was an experience she treasured despite the pain. 

"A boy!" Cried Sansa as the wrapped the squalling babe in the linens they had prepared after he had been cleaned. Eilonwy sighed as the contractions ebbed for the moment and the little body was handed to her and Jon. Jon stared down and the small bundle in wonder. Crystal blue eyes blinking fuzzily at them. 

"The eye color always begins like that. As the baby approaches 1 year, their eyes will become the color they are meant to be. But Jon could clearly make out the strands of dark hair that curled around his son's head. Eilonwy's free hand squeezed his and her contractions began again, pushing the second baby out with ease. 

"A girl!!" Cried Sansa as the cleaned the babe and wrapped her. She placed the bundle in Eilonwy and Jon's other arm. Crystal blue eyes and gleaming white hair greeted them. 

"Oh, Jon!" Eilonwy breathed, sweat covering her body and blood covering her dress. 

"Nurse them, my Queen. It will help stop the bleeding and expel the afterbirth." Sophia instructed and Jon watched in pure awe as Eilonwy had each babe latched on to her milk swollen breasts. 

"By all the gods," he whispered reverently. His hands reaching around Eilonwy to cup the heads of his children. "They are so small." Eilonwy nodded. 

"They will not stay that way, Jon." She saw the fear for them in his eyes. "And they are not as breakable as you fear." He grunted, his hand gently rubbed their drying hair. Eilonwy gritted her teeth against the pain of her body repelling the afterbirth and Sophia's rough massaging of her distended uterus. But the suckling of the babes at her breasts helped ease the contraction and the bleeding stopped. Jon looked at his pale, sweaty wife holding their two beautiful babes and felt a sense of wholeness that he had not known he was missing. He was a father, a husband, a King. Never in his wildest dreams had he thought he would be here. A tear slipped down his cheek as gratitude swept through him. 

"I am thankful too, Jon." Eilonwy whispered, turning her head to plant a kiss on his cheek. "For so much." He nodded and buried his face in her shoulder. 

"Their names?" Sophia asked. Jon lifted a smiling face and Eilowyn nodded her agreement. 

"Eddard Rhaegar and Rhaenys Lyanna Targaryen Stark. First children of the free North." Eilonwy had suggested that they honor both house when they named their children. Honoring his birth father and uncle who was a father to him. As well as his mother and sister who was murdered during Robert's rebellion. 

***  
Samwell lovingly add the children's names to the family tree as they greeted their seventh moon. It was tradition to wait as many moons to be sure the child would survive. In this uncertain world, nothing was known. But as Samwell thought of the piercing violet eyes of young Eddard and the golden eyes of little Rhaenys, he knew that they bore the strength of their lines. Great things were in store for their future. He could feel it. He smiled to himself as a peel of laughter rang through the halls of Winterfell. It sounded like young Sam had found the stumbling royals. They were up and moving by their fifth month, eager to chase the world and the direwolf pups that seemed to be streaming out of the Wolf's Woods. He heard Eilonwy called after the little bundles of energy, followed by Jon's bellowing laughter. Even Sansa's twinkling laughter could be heard. 

"Just you wait until yours arrives!" Eilonwy retorted, no doubt chasing down the twins. Which of course envoked more laughter from the gathered royals. Samwell smiled to himself as he wrote the letters, annocing the children's survival and names. The Ravens would leave later that day to announce their lives to the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhh!!! And there it is my dear readers! The semi conclusion of this story. I hope you are happy with the outcome. Because I am!


	39. Epilogue

Epilogue

Daenerys was wrapped in thick furs as winter's chill swept through King's Landing, causing little flurries of snow. The chill caressed her cheek as it lifted her pale white-blonde hair. She held in one hand the announcement from her nephew in the North. 

"The North announces with a full heart the seventh month of the Royal twins. Eddard Rhaegar, a strapping boy with the dark hair and violet eyes of his father's heritage. And beautiful Rhaenys Lyanna, whose white-blonde hair and amber eyes speak to her lines." Daenerys closed her eyes and drew the image of the twins in her mind. Her great niece and nephew, her family. Her other hand moved over the slight swell of her own belly. She never thought she could have another child and had settled into her role as Queen, thinking of her subjects as her children. But now as a child of her husband grew in her belly, she was not as sure of herself as she had once been. When it was only her life, she had no concern because she was the Dragon. But now, having lost a child all those years ago ... Her arms ached to hold her own child. 

"My Queen?" Her Hand's voice called softly behind her. "Are you unwell?" Tyrion asked. She smiled softly as the dwarf walked up to her. She handed him the announcement, which he read with quick eyes. 

"I am fine, my Lord." She responded, her hands rubbing her swelling belly. 

"We have a lead on my dear sister." Tyrion said, rolling the announcement. "Intel given to us by Lord Manderly of the North. It seems that a House in the North is unhappy with your nephew for his choice of wife and Queen and seeks rebellion." Daenerys grunted in a very unladylike fashion. 

"Nobels, " she snorted. "They have no idea what it is to rule or make choices that effect the lives of all. Eilonwy was the best choice for a Queen, even I can admit that. Who wouldn't want a warrior of her caliber by their side as they rule?" Tyrion smiled, knowing she was also referring to her own husband. 

"Agreed. But it seems that the House Karstark is harboring our fugitive, exiled queen." Tyrion said, handing her the letter. 

"Is Jon aware?" She waved the letter away. She trusted Tyrion completely, she knew he was telling her the truth. She watched her three dragons swooping through the chilled air. They had an underground chamber that was kept warm for them and they could come and go as they pleased. They were creature of warmth but seemed to enjoy the chill. It remained to be seen if they thrived in full winter.

"Yes," Tyrion followed his Queen's gaze. "Manderly assures us that he sent the same letter to his King." Daenerys nodded as she pulled the furs closer to her chilled skin. 

"Reach out to him. Asked if he requires support and give him our congratulations upon the seventh month of his twins." Daenerys said. "And send them a gift, along with our own annocement. It is time we begin planning to bring the Seven Kingdom's back together, one way or another." She eyes faced North, which was only a wall of the oncoming winter storm. 

"Of course, my Queen." Tyrion nodded to her. Daenerys turned and planted a soft kiss to his brow. 

"Send my husband to me, please." Tyrion nodded again and turned to find the King.

END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been thinking of writing more and making this a series of stories that would wrap up Martin's wondrous world. Thoughts, dear readers? Would you like more? Let me know! I hope you have enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it!


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